


What We Gain in Sacrifice

by gracelessAesthetic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Moicy, Moircy, Slow Burn, grey morals, plenty of angst, reeaaallllly slow, yeaaahhhh science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17978156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracelessAesthetic/pseuds/gracelessAesthetic
Summary: When Moira O'Deorain joins Blackwatch, she sees it only as a means to practice her experiments without restraint.  She has little patience for Overwatch and government policies, so when Gabriel Reyes requests that she accompany him to meet with a group of Overwatch agents, she sees it as a pointless formality.  When this meeting brings Angela Ziegler into her life, the two instantly clash until a dangerous mission sheds new light on what they might mean to each other.  As their relationship slowly begins to change into something more, dark clouds gather as Overwatch faces conflict from all sides, forcing Moira to question what it is she truly desires, and what she is willing to sacrifice.





	1. To Be of Interest

**Author's Note:**

> I did promise a longer fic and here it is! I've got the entire thing mapped out already, so hopefully I can stick to a more regular update schedule, but I won't make any promises.  
> In regards to technical/scientific talk, I apologize but I know pretty much nothing about all that, so I'll either keep it vague or make shit up (hey, it's like 60 years from now, the stuff they're doing doesn't exist right now anyway, right?)  
> Lastly, if any readers of Metamorphosis are here going "What the fuck why are you starting something new?!" I AM SO SORRY BUT THIS IS WHERE THE MUSE HAS LEAD ME!! I do intend to pick up Metamorphosis again someday, but I have no idea when that might be. For now, this is my serious OTP and my heart has guided me here. Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

“Welcome to Blackwatch, Dr. O'Deorain.”

Those words would prove to change the lives of so many people over the course of the next several years, in both good ways and terrible, but for now they were nothing more than a customary greeting, spoken little more than a month ago the day Moira first walked into the Overwatch subdivision headquarters.

Joining Overwatch wasn't a notion she would have ever entertained even in her most outlandish daydreams. She had always looked down on the organization. They were too bureaucratic, too much in the public eye, to be of any use to her. Joining their numbers would have only served to hinder further progress, but as it turned out, she had managed to do that perfectly fine all on her own not too long ago. Her paper on genetic enhancement should have served as a launchpad for her career, granting her the funding and support needed to help bring humanity to the next stage of evolution. Not once did she imagine that it would ostracize her from the scientific community to the point of ruin.

Her career in shambles, her name a disgrace amongst her peers, Moira had seen little hope for recovery. Not that it would have put a stop to her vision, but without the means to make her visions a reality, what could she hope to accomplish? Never one to succumb to emotional hang ups, she had found herself sinking into a depressive spiral when salvation had come from the most unexpected place.

Moira knew who Gabriel Reyes was. Anyone who paid attention to anything happening in the world knew that he and Jack Morrison had been the cornerstones of Overwatch, with Reyes serving as the first Strike Commander before turning the reins over to his best friend. Why he had chosen to step down was never elaborated upon, and Moira hadn't cared one way or another. But that he was still a part of the organization was a known fact, and when he reached out to her, her initial reaction had been to turn him away. What could a group like Overwatch, so renown for their by-the-book methods, want with someone like her? They had a public face, an image to uphold, and if her name were attached to them it could do nothing but bring them down. People like that only saw her work as a stain, an embarrassment, something to be buried away and forgotten. They were cowards, too afraid of the possible consequences to do what needed to be done. Surely, there was no place for her with them.

Then Reyes told her about Blackwatch and their freedom from government oversight, and offered her a chance she could not possibly refuse. Moira had never been religious or even slightly spiritual. Her devotion to science left no room for such absurdities. Yet she could not help but see his arrival as a sign from the universe that her work was meant to continue, for how else could humanity hope to reach its true potential unless she helped it along? Evolution had been virtually stagnant for the past 50,000 years. It was time to give it a push, and Blackwatch seemed to be the key.

Now, after a month of being with them, she was more certain of that than ever. She was more or less left to her own devices. Having been given her own personal laboratory, Moira had only to ask and she would be given anything she required. All that Blackwatch asked in return was her cooperation when it was needed. That, and Reyes had dropped a few hints that he had a special project in mind that he hoped to work with her on in the near future. What that could possibly be, Moira didn't know. Reyes was a soldier, not a scientist. He was a brilliant strategist and a fearsome opponent on the battlefield, but he knew nothing of genetics. Still, if not for him, Moira would have nothing. If he wanted her to do something for him, she would be happy to comply, especially if it allowed her to test the limits of what was achievable. So far, he hadn't given her any further details, and Moira had plenty to occupy herself with in the meantime.

Occasionally Reyes would check in on her, routine business lasting no more than a few minutes, so it came as no surprise when he knocked on the doorframe early one afternoon to announce his presence before walking in.

“Gabriel,” she said by means of greeting, not taking her eyes off the chemicals she was carefully measuring.

“Hello, Dr. O'Deorain. I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

 _Anytime you come in here while I’m working you're interrupting something._ “Not in particular. Was there something you needed?” No sense in wasting time with pointless smalltalk. Moira prefered to get to the point and move on.

If Reyes found her bluntness off-putting, he didn't show it. More than likely he was used to it by now. She had expected his usual answer, that no, he didn't need anything, just wanted to see how she was getting along, was there anything she required?, so when his reply came, at first she only listened halfway.

“Actually, there is.” That got her attention, and she paused her work. “The main branch has something, or rather someone who I think will be of particular interest to you. It's a little early to be certain, but he might eventually be joining us and I need to go evaluate him. I'd like you to come along.”

Moira deliberately took her time setting aside her equipment while she mulled over his words. On one hand, Reyes almost never asked her for anything. On the other, she knew that by “main branch” he meant the official Overwatch organization, which meant government lapdogs and tedious formalities that Moira detested.

“I was under the impression that my involvement with Blackwatch was to be kept off the records,” she said slowly, turning to face him. “Wouldn't my accompanying you undermine that secrecy?”

“You're forgetting, Blackwatch doesn't even exist, at least not officially. Only a handful within Overwatch know about us, and none of them will pass along anything that transpires today to unwanted ears. In fact, nothing about this visit or the person it concerns will be on record at all. It would hurt them just as much as it would hurt us, probably even more.”

He had a point, she had to admit. Still, she didn't like the idea of making herself known to anyone outside their immediate circle. Rumors had a way of spreading like a virus. “It still seems risky.”

“Trust me, Moira, if I thought it could jeopardize our work here, I wouldn't be asking. I need you, remember?”

Moira sighed. It seemed as though she had no way out of it. Finally, she relented. “Very well. When do we leave?”

“As soon as you're ready.”

She was half tempted to tell him the experiment she was working on required careful attention and precise timing, and that he shouldn't let her hold him up if he was in a hurry. It would be a lie, of course. She could stop what she was doing at any time, but he had no way of knowing that. She took a breath and decided against it. He had helped her so much already. If this was all he was asking of her for now…

“Give me just a few minutes to put this away.”

“Thank you. I promise you won't regret this.”

Moira doubted it, but said nothing. Packing up her equipment and shrugging out of her lab coat, she walked over to him. Reyes was by no means a short man, but at 6’5” there were very few people she did not tower over, and she found herself looking down at him when she asked, “Where are we going?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Clearly pleased with her compliance, he answered, “The Gibraltar Watchpoint. It's out of the way enough that the officials don't bother with it very often. It's a perfect location if you don't want to be disturbed.”

A good location, indeed, and not too far. Still, between traveling there, attending to their business, and getting back to Rome, she would lose an entire day. Masking her irritation as best she could, she nodded her lead. “Let's get it over with, then.”

****

For secrecy purposes, they couldn’t travel commercially, and while private transportation required no stops, they had had to circumnavigate more closely monitored airways in order to avoid radar detection, extending their journey by several hours. Moira was thankful that Reyes wasn’t much for idle conversation. He spent his time deep in thought, his dark eyes staring out at something unseen. For her part, Moira was content with using the time to make notes in the pad she always kept on her. Breakthroughs could happen at any moment, and she would be damned if she let an idea escape her due to poor preparation.

Halfway through their journey, Reyes glanced over at her. “Always working, aren’t you?” he commented.

Moira stared at him. “Do you take issue with that? Why be idle when I can continue to move forward?”

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “No, no. No complaints from me. It’s just… don’t you ever relax?”

She gave him a withering look, but he didn’t flinch. Returning to her notes, she was silent for several minutes before replying. “I can relax at home. During the day, I’m at the lab. These are my working hours, and if I cannot be there, I will do what I can with what I have available to me.”

Reyes shrugged. “Just asking. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You won’t as long as you don’t disturb me,” she mumbled, more to herself than him, as she abscently tapped her pen against the notepad. He chuckled but said nothing, and the remainder of their journey was passed in silence.

By the time they arrived at the watchpoint, the sun was starting to descend, sending its golden rays dancing over the surface of the Strait of Gibraltar. Moira had to admit that it was a stunning view, but they hadn’t gone there to sightsee. Approaching the facility, it was plain to see that it had been constructed with orbital launch in mind, though no such projects had been in place for some time. It made perfect sense why anyone who wanted to be left alone would come here, and Moira found herself respecting the unprincipled approach.

Moira followed Reyes as he led them to a large entrance bay, where they were greeted by a man of Reyes’s height and age with close-cropped white hair, broad shoulders, and a face lined by age and stress. She had seen pictures of him in his youth, the perfect Golden Boy, blond and chiseled, but even now, he cut an impressive figure. She knew who he was: Jack Morrison, current Strike Commander, the public face of Overwatch, and Reyes’s best friend.

“Welcome, my friend. Glad you could make it on such short notice,” Morrison said, clasping Reyes in a one-armed hug. Reyes returned the gesture, and there was a lightness to him that was unfamiliar to Moira. However seriously Reyes took his duties, it was clear that Jack Morrison was just as important to him. Moira stood in awkward silence as the two exchanged pleasantries before Morrison turned his attention to her.

“I see you brought company, Gabe. Were you planning on making introductions or were you just going to let her stand there?”

“Sorry about that. Jack, this is Dr. Moira O’Deorain. She’s recently agreed to put her brilliant mind to work in our science division, and she’s been a tremendous asset. Moira, this is Jack Morrison, but you probably already knew that.”

Morrison extended his hand, which Moira shook once before quickly dropping it. He blinked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Now I understand why Gabe brought you along. I’ve heard a bit about your... work, Dr. O’Deorain, but genetics isn’t my area. We have a doctor on site who would be more up to your speed. In fact, it’s thanks to her that you two have reason to be here at all. Perhaps you will find something to discuss with her while Gabe and I go over the, ah… military side of things.”

Moira didn’t miss the brief look that flashed across his face. It was apparent that he was familiar with the controversy that still dogged her like a shadow, but he at least had the grace not to mention it outright. With a slight incline of her head, she said, “If you have a geneticist here, I would be interested in meeting her.”

“Nanobiologist, actually, but I won’t pretend to know what I’m talking about when it comes to distinguishing all that. Now, why don’t we get inside?”

Something about his words triggered a brief flash in her mind, some kind of significance, but she couldn’t quite place it. She quickly abandoned the attempt to remember, knowing she would find out soon enough. She followed a few paces behind the two men, who were once again engaged in animated discussion as Morrison led them further into the facility. They eventually reached a large room well equipped with the latest in medical technology, and Moira took a moment to marvel at it all. It was on level with what she had in her own lab, although it lacked the experimental nature that her’s possessed. While it had its appeal, she doubted it was what they had been brought in to see. Reyes had mentioned a person, after all, and Moira briefly wondered if it was the nanobiologist Morrison had mentioned before disregarding the thought. That wouldn’t be it, or he wouldn’t have discussed her in such a casual manner. No, they were here for something far more unusual.

“Gabe, Dr. O’Deorain, please come this way. There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Morrison said, getting her attention as he took them into a smaller room, divided from the main space by a glass door. Once inside, Moira quickly realized why they were there, and felt her jaw drop slightly at the sight before them.

Sitting upright on a sterile hospital bed was a young man with a shock of short black hair and dark, almond eyes, but that was all she could see of his face. The rest of it was covered with polished chrome. Tubes and wires connected most of his body to an advanced monitoring system, with his neck, left arm and shoulder being the only visible flesh, which was heavily scarred. The rest of his body appeared to be mechanical, bearing a striking resemblance to humanoid omnics. It was rough, unfinished, but he was conscious and apparently able to move. If he was experiencing any pain, Moira couldn’t tell, as his covered face prevented much in the way of expression. His eyes were alert, though, and he looked at the newcomers with interest when they walked in. Surprisingly, he spoke, although the sound had a slight tin to it.

“Konbanwa, Morrison-san,” he said in heavily accented English. “Who are our guests?”

“Good to see you up, Mr. Shimada. Allow me to introduce Gabriel Reyes and Moira O’Deorain. Sorry, Doctor O’Deorain. They’re here to meet you. Gabe, Doctor, this is Genji Shimada.”

Something flashed in the young man’s eyes, but it passed so quickly Moira wondered if she had imagined it. “Are they also with Overwatch?” Genji asked.

“In a manner of speaking. Gabriel here leads a subdivision of sorts, and Dr. O’Deorain works with him,” Morrison explained.

Moira took a couple steps towards him, eyes wide in fascination. Reyes had not been wrong: this was indeed worth her time. Never before had she seen a human altered in this way. She wondered what could have happened to him to require such drastic measures, but there would be time later to learn all that. “This is utterly astounding,” she whispered. Speaking up, she asked, “Who is responsible for this?”

“That would be me,” a female voice said from behind them. “And I would appreciate you all not crowding my patient. I’ve told you before, Jack, he needs rest.”

Moira turned to see who had spoken. Standing in the doorway was a young woman with pale blond hair and startlingly blue eyes, and instantly Moira knew why Morrison’s mention of a nanobiologist had registered with her. Morrison started to speak. “Ah, there you are. Dr. O’Deorain, this is the woman I was talking about, Dr. Angela Ziegler. Angela, this is-”

“Moira O’Deorain. Yes, I am familiar with who she is, and I can’t help but wonder what’s she’s doing here,” Dr. Ziegler said with a glare at Morrison, and Moira felt a stab of irritation. Yet another person making judgements before having even met her. Not that it mattered to Moira what other people thought of her, but she found the irrationality of it frustrating.

“I didn’t even know she was going to be here, Angela,” he said. “But I told you Gabe was coming to meet with us.”

“Yes, yes, I remember, but that doesn’t mean you all have to hover over him like he was some kind of zoo animal. We can talk outside.” Reyes and Morrison exchanged a glance, and Moira was amused to see them bow their heads in deferment. Morrison might be in charge, but it was clear that Dr. Ziegler was not a woman to argue with. Switching gears entirely, she directed her attention to her patient. “Everything alright, Mr. Shimada?” she said kindly.

“I am fine, Doctor, thank you,” he said.

She nodded briskly. “Very well. You know how to contact me if you need anything.” With that, she turned on her heels and left the room without another word. The men quickly followed, and with one last curious glance at Genji, Moira did, too.


	2. Difference of Opinion

Back in the main room, Dr. Ziegler was already well into a conversation with Morrison and Reyes when Moira joined them. Her earlier irritation seemed to have passed, but upon catching sight of Moira, her expression hardened. Breaking off from whatever she had been saying, she glared at Reyes.

“You still haven't explained to me what she is doing here, Gabriel.”

Reyes shot an apologetic glance at Moira before starting to respond, but Moira interrupted him.

“I can speak for myself, thank you.” Turning to Dr. Ziegler, she said, “I don't much appreciate the hostility, considering I was ordered here. I fail to see why you find my presence so offensive.” That last part wasn't entirely true, but she was going to force the doctor to say it herself.

“You certainly weren't ordered by myself or Jack, seeing as we were unaware that you would be here. In fact, until today we had absolutely no idea you were working with Gabriel in the first place.”

“And how am I to blame for that? Gabriel insisted on hiding my involvement. He seemed to think it would be in our best interest,” Moira retorted.

Dr. Ziegler snorted. “‘Best Interest’ indeed. More likely he knew Jack wouldn't approve.”

“Now wait a minute. Last I checked Jack put me in charge of Blackwatch. I was under the impression that I could act as I saw fit,” Reyes interjected.

Throughout the exchange Morrison had remained silent, a slight frown creasing his face as he listened. Finally, he spoke.

“Okay, okay, that's enough, all of you. Angela, I understand your concerns here, but Gabe does have a point.” Dr. Ziegler tried to interject, but Morrison silenced her with a raise of his hand. “Hear me out, please. Gabe, while I have given you charge of your division, I would still appreciate it if you could inform me of any major decisions you make, to avoid surprises if nothing else. But seeing as that division isn't under any official capacity and needs to retain its secrecy, that's all the more reason to make sure we _stay on the same page_. Understand?”

Reyes’ expression was unreadable, but after a moment he nodded. “Yeah, I hear you, Jack. Sorry for not giving you the heads up.”

Moira had stood in silence, uncertain if she had any say in all of it. Considering she was the subject of the debate, she felt she should be able to speak on her behalf, but then again she had done nothing wrong. The only source of conflict here was Dr. Ziegler’s prejudice. If not for that, they wouldn't be wasting their time and could have instead moved forward with more pressing subjects, such as the genetic marvel that sat in the next room over. She finally concluded that she had no place to question Morrison's decisions. He was ultimately at the top of the chain of command, and besides that he didn't seem to have any real objection to her other than Reyes’ failure to communicate. Dr. Ziegler, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. Turning her attention to the other doctor, she spoke in what she hoped was a polite tone.

“Doctor, can I assume that your issue with my involvement corresponds with my paper?” She hated being the one to address it, but seeing as no one else seemed prepared to mention the elephant in the room, she might as well get it over with.

“Yes, it is about your paper,” she said cooly.

“Have you actually read it, or is your bias based only on hearsay?”

“Of course I read it, and while I will admit that your hypothesis is based in valid scientific findings, your disregard for the human consequences that would result from such experimentation is… well, unethical would be one way of putting it.”

Moira's irritation rose at the familiar words. Unethical, disgraceful. Evil. People were so quick to ascribe such emotionally loaded terminology to a theoretical proposition that was based purely in neutral scientific study. How could science be evil when science had no morality to it to begin with? Humans had ethics, and such human concepts did not exist in nature. Nature only did, and whether or not people approved mattered little. All Moira had proposed was a greater exploration into how nature could be pushed forward, enhanced, at a faster rate than what was already occurring.

“You're just like the rest of them, too afraid of the unknown to even try and discover what could be. No progress would ever be made without risk. That is the very nature of advancing.”

Dr. Ziegler shook her head. “I don't have time to debate ethics with you. If you lack the basic empathy to see it, there's nothing I can do. I have more important matters to attend to. You and Gabriel can see yourselves out.”

Reyes’ eyes widened. “Isn’t that for Jack to-”

“Just… leave, Gabe. Please. You've gotten what you came for for now. You know he's nowhere near ready, and as I stated before, he needs rest,” Dr. Ziegler said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Reyes sighed. “Yeah, okay. Always good to see you too, Angela. I'm sorry about… well, I'm sorry.”

“It is what it is,” she murmured before walking away deeper into the base. Morrison watched her go for a moment before turning to them.

“Come on, you better do as she says. I'll walk you out.”

“You'd think she was Commander, wouldn't you?” Reyes grinned. “Some things never change, huh?”

“You know how it goes, Gabe. Doctors are the ones really in charge.”

“You've been watching too much Star Trek,” Reyes chuckled.

On the flight back, Moira made several attempts to resume her earlier note taking, but after half an hour of staring at a blank page, she sighed in frustration and gave up the idea entirely. Staring out the window at the darkening sky, she reflected on the earlier confrontation. Since the publication of her paper, she had dealt with many scornful glares and pointed mutterings, and she had always brushed them off, confident in her stance and knowing they were just too blind to see the truth. So why, then, had her argument with Dr. Ziegler managed to rattle her so much?

Perhaps it was due to the fact that Angela Ziegler herself was such a well-known figure within the medical and scientific communities. A certifiable genius, having caught the attention of Overwatch by the age of 17 and earning her PhD not long after, she had been a renowned healer and first responder on the battlefield for years. Having now seen her work firsthand, Moira felt a burning frustration at so much wasted potential. A mind like Angela Ziegler's could do so much more if only she would let go of her hangups. It bothered her that she couldn't see past what others had declared as morally unfit, dismissing possibility outright over artificially crafted objections. She supposed it didn't really matter. She would continue her work at Blackwatch, as planned. Moira had no intentions of allowing one such as Dr. Ziegler to get in her way.

*****

“Moira, you won’t believe this! They’ve found her!”

Moira jerked and nearly dropped the beaker she was holding. Quickly regaining her composure, she glared over her shoulder. Reyes stood just inside the door to her lab, practically out of breath. It was unlike him to burst in without announcing himself, and for the life of her she couldn’t imagine what would warrant such an unwelcome intrusion.

“I haven’t faintest idea as to what you’re on about. What do you mean by just barging in here like this?” she snarled.

Reyes seemed to realize what he had done, and a guilty expression crossed his face, but excitement soon won out. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like to be bothered, but it’s Lena Oxton, the Slipstream test pilot. You remember?”

Moira massaged her temples. “Vaguely. What about her?”

“The accident, the one where she went missing a couple of months ago?” he asked.

Ah. Right. That pilot. Her disappearance had caused a tremendous uproar within Overwatch, and nearly everyone had been working around the clock to try and find out what had happened. She had been testing brand new technology when something had gone horribly wrong. Morrison had even asked her to assist in looking, but she pointedly reminded him that her work was in genetics and she wouldn’t exactly be much use considering that the accident had been the result of a mechanical failure.

“And what of it? This doesn’t concern me in the slightest, and I fail to see why you felt the need to interrupt my work just to tell me this.”

Reyes took a step towards her. “Do you really think I’d be coming here just to pass on a bit of news? No, I think you are absolutely going to want to see her.”

Moira suppressed a groan. “I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time you came in here to tell me something like that. Shimada was indeed an interesting subject, I’ll grant you that, but that Ziegler was insufferable. I have no desire to get involved with them again.”

“I know that wasn’t exactly your definition of a good time, but your work is about genetics and the very building blocks of our DNA, yes?”

“Obviously.”

“Then this is definitely right up your area of expertise.”

Folding her arms across her chest, she gave him a frown. “Can you give me more information than that?”

“It’s… probably better if you just see for yourself,” he said awkwardly.

Moira rolled her eyes. “That really isn’t much for me to go on. I suppose you’re planning on dragging me off in the middle of my work to go pander to those government lackeys again, aren’t you?”

Reyes dropped a hand to his hip. “Not right away, no. Things are a bit hectic over there right now, and there’s too great a chance someone could show up who we’d… rather not run into. Jack is keeping me updated and he’ll let me know when to make our way there. They asked for you specifically, Moira. Jack said if anyone could help Winston figure this out, it’s you.”

“I’m certain not all of them want me there,” she grumbled. Clearly, Reyes heard her.

“Don’t worry about Angela. She’s… very strong-willed, but she cares about Lena and won’t try and stop anyone from helping her.”

Moira said nothing as she turned back to her work. She had been under the impression when she joined Blackwatch that she would have nothing to do with the main division, and yet now for the second time in three months she was being more or less ordered to drop her work and make time for them. She had to admit that Genji Shimada had indeed been quite impressive, but that visit had been colored by Ziegler’s outright disdain for her. She wouldn’t try and fool herself into thinking that the doctor wouldn’t be present when they made their call. Agreeing to Reyes’s request would most definitely mean another encounter with her, and Moira had been hoping to never find herself in her presence again. Yet once again, it seemed she wasn’t being given a choice.

“Fine, fine. Just… tell me when we’re clear to leave. And Reyes?”

“Yes?”

“This better be worth it.”

*****

Damn him, it _was_ worth it. There was no hiding her awe after just a few minutes of observation, and Reyes’s smug look was appalling. Still, she was witnessing a human being doing something that should not have been possible, and she itched to get a closer look.

“Glad you could make it,” a voice behind her said, and she nearly jumped when she turned and came face to face with a full grown gorilla in a lab coat and glasses. She had heard of Winston before, but seeing him in person was a different story. Yet another example of what science could do when limits were not imposed. She would love an opportunity to study him.

“Thank you for inviting me. I'm starting to think getting involved with Overwatch was worth it after all.”

“You say that as if you had doubts,” he said, but he didn't linger on the subject. “I've already been informed that your involvement is to remain confidential. No one will be here today who doesn't already know about you.”

“Your reassurance is appreciated. Now, what can you tell me about the subject's condition?”

Winston adjusted his glasses. “As you know, she was a test pilot for a new type of hyperspeed flight technology, but there was some kind of internal malfunction and both Oxton and the plane went missing two months ago. We were starting to think we had another Earhart on our hands.” Seeing the expression on Moira's face, he cleared his throat awkwardly and continued. “Anyway, we had our best people trying to understand what happened, but we came up empty. Unlike in Earhart's day, we have the tech to easily find any crash sites within days, if not hours, so the lack of wreckage made no sense. She had simply vanished.”

Moira nodded impatiently. She knew all this already. “Clearly, she's here now.”

“Er, yes. She turned up a few days ago, completely out of the blue, but she wasn't… she's not… stable.”

Turning to the subject at hand, Moira watched again as the young girl, no more than 18 or 19, flickered before their very eyes. Her entire body seemed to dematerialize before reforming. She paced restlessly in her containment cell, her expression clearly one of frustration.

“So where was she?”

“It's not a where, but a when. Lena Oxton appears to be in a state of chronal flux. She's been slipping through time.”

“Fascinating. Even I never would have imaged something like this was possible. And how is she maintaining presence now?”

“The chamber she's in was built to stabilize her, at least enough that she won't slip off into some unknown decade. Outside of that, though, she's more or less a ghost.” Winston walked up and tapped on the glass window. Oxton’s head snapped up at the noise and she zipped over.

“Oi, Winston, any more news?” Noticing Moira for the first time, she asked, “Who's this?”

“This is Dr. Moira O'Deorain, a leading expert in genetics. She's dedicated years to studying the inner workings of the human structure, and we think she might be able to help you.”

“I think I've heard of her. Some big fuss a while back over some paper?” Moira was about to speak up when Oxton waved a hand. “Oh, who cares about that? I trust you, Winston. Whatever you think is best. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Moira felt a flash of surprise at Oxton's easy dismissal, but then again the girl was a pilot. She had no reason to care about the career mishaps of a geneticist. Moira was about to ask another question, but she had hardly formed the words in her mind when a familiar voice spoke from behind her.

“Back again, are you?”

Moira's jaw clenched as she turned to face Dr. Ziegler. “And what of it?”

“No need to get worked up, Angela,” Winston quickly interjected. “I need help here, and Jack suggested Dr. O'Deorain.”

Dr. Ziegler gave Winston a long stare before giving the slightest nod. “Fine. I want to speak with you. Alone,” she said to Moira.

“I'm sure that's not-” Winston began, but Moira cut him off.

“No, I'd like to hear what the good doctor has to say. After all, we never got the chance to finish our discussion the last time.”

Moira followed Dr. Ziegler down a long corridor until they reached a small door. She opened it to reveal a well-kept office. Books filled the shelves, medical charts adorned the walls, and large wooden desk sat close to a window overlooking the cliffside. A frame on the desk held the familiar photograph of a teenage Angela Ziegler visiting with Overwatch agents. The picture had made headlines years back, and Moira had of course followed the story, in a professional capacity at least.

Shutting the door behind them, Ziegler rounded on Moira. “I want to make one thing perfectly clear, _Doctor_ O'Deorain. Lena Oxton has been through an incredibly traumatic ordeal. She is, first and foremost, a patient, just like Genji Shimada. We are going to help her to the best of our abilities so that she can hopefully resume a normal life. You are here to assist with that goal, to use your understanding of human biology to help us better understand what is going on with her physiology. She is not your lab rat, and you will not subject her to anything beyond what is necessary to discover a cure. Is that understood?”

Moira was so taken aback that she had difficulty finding the words to respond. “I… that… why on earth would you assume I would do anything else?” She winced at the weakness of the reply.

“Because I know how you see people, Dr. O'Deorain. They are a means to an end for you, aren't they? Things to be studied and tested with no regard as to what becomes of them,” she hissed.

“You talk as if I am some kind of uncaring monster!” Moira practically shouted. “I wish to be able to push humanity, yes, to further understand what we are capable of achieving, but that does not mean I am without sympathies!”

Dr. Ziegler snorted. “And why should I believe that? Your thesis demonstrated an almost laughable lack of empathy. You spoke of your ideas in such a cold manner. Tools, things.”

“As if you have any right to make such accusations against me when you yourself are no better!”

Dr. Ziegler gaped at her, and internally Moira berated herself for resorting to such heated tactics. She never let herself get so riled up, and here she was, in a shouting match with a woman she hardly knew.

“What on Earth are you talking about?!”

“Genji Shimada, of course,” she scoffed.

“What about Genji? I saved his life!”

“Did you, now? He may continue to function, but is what he has now really considered living? He's more machine than man. You've all but stripped away his humanity.”

Face flushing, Dr. Ziegler was visibly shaking as she spread her arms wide. “He would have died!” Jabbing her finger in Moira's face, she added. “And that just goes to show what you view as humanity. The biology, the parts, but what makes him human is what's in his mind. In his heart. But what could you possibly know of that?”

“Did you ever stop to consider that maybe death would have been the preferable option for him? Did you even bother to find out what that _heart_ of his wants? Or did you just see a poor, broken boy in need of saving in the way that you deemed ‘morally fit’?”

Ziegler froze, then let her hand drop to her side. “It's… that's different. I didn't do what I did for my own gain.”

“No? But it was still a chance for you to test your abilities, was it not?” Moira's voice had resumed its usual cool composure. Speaking almost softly, she said, “And that's all I want, too. I don't seek glory for myself, Dr. Ziegler. Believe it or not, I too have humanity's best interest at heart. I simply understand that we will never move forward without a few risks.”

Ziegler said nothing, but her cheeks were still pink and she refused to meet Moira's eyes. When she did speak, her voice was little more than a whisper. “Perhaps we have both misjudged one another.”

“Yet another misunderstanding, doctor. I have always had respect for your work. I just believe you could do so much more.”

They were silent for a long time, but the earlier tension between them seemed to have dissipated. Moira was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable as Dr. Ziegler gave her a scrutinizing gaze.

“Our methodologies may differ, but I do believe we have much to offer one another, if you'll allow me the chance to work with you,” Moira said, surprising them both by extending her hand. Perhaps even more stunning, Dr. Ziegler took it. Her skin was warm, her palms calloused from years of field work, but there was an undeniable strength to them.

“I think I can accept that, Dr. O'Deorain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I've been doing so much research into the timeline. I did my best to keep the major events in order and around the right time, but obviously we're not given a whole lot of info in that regard, so lots of this is estimated.  
> But hey it's fanfiction, so it can be whatever I want, yeah? 😆


	3. Shift

“For the  _ last time _ , O'Deorain, please keep your… your…  _ whatever _ that is, to your side of the lab!”

 

“It’s a mall probe and you know it, and I would be more than happy to keep my equipment to my designated space if you hadn't confined me to  _ a quarter of the laboratory! _ ”

 

“Mall probe?  What the hell do you need a  _ mall probe _ for?!  This isn't some medieval surgical theater!  We're not  _ probing _ anyone!”

 

“I find it best to be prepared for any circumstance!  And you still haven't addressed the fact that you are taking up more than your share of space!”

 

“It's  _ my _ lab!  As if you're one to talk about taking up too much room, you… you… you overgrown leprechaun!”

 

“Overgrown…  _ what?! _  You… overly moralistic… unbelievably stubborn…”

 

“Yes?  Did you have a conclusion to that or has your ‘superior intellect' left you wanting?”

 

Moira threw her hands up in frustration before snatching the probe off the table and stomping off to her dedicated section of their now-shared lab.  It had been just a little over a week since they had agreed to work together, and any hope Moira might have had that it would be a peaceful arrangement had evaporated after the first day.  Dr. Ziegler was a one-track minded control freak and saw any intrusion in her work space as an outright affront. Certainly, Moira had prefered her lab back at Blackwatch headquarters to remain undisturbed as well, but how could Ziegler expect them to get anything accomplished if she micromanaged every little thing Moira did?

 

She found herself desperately missing the quiet solitude of her old workspace.  She had been eager for the chance to study the incredible physiology of Lena Oxton, but she was now beginning to wonder if it was worth it.  Ziegler was still suspicious of her, and kept a close watch anytime Moira was around the young pilot. Moira did her best to act as if she didn't notice whenever this happened, refusing to give her any satisfaction, but the constant hovering made it nearly impossible to work effectively.  

 

“I don't see why you don't just go back to Blackwatch.  You have to make yourself scarce anytime we have outside visitors, anyway,” Dr. Ziegler muttered. 

 

It was true.  Aside from those she had previously met, her involvement had been made known to just two other agents, Ana Amari and Reinhardt Wilhelm, both long-time field operatives and close friends of Reyes and Morrison.  Neither of them would violate the secrecy, but it still meant that there were several people who dropped by who Moira had to avoid. Fortunately, now that the initial excitement over Oxton's return had died down, Watchpoint: Gibraltar was starting to return to its usual quiet isolation.

 

“Believe me, I would love nothing more, but you and I both know that that isn't going to happen until we've made more progress,” Moira said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

“Then we need to find a way to work together.  We've just been going in circles.”

 

Moira rolled her eyes.  “Maybe if you would stop watching me like a hawk and just let me work!  I assure you, I'm not going to dissect Miss Oxton.”

 

Ziegler’s face went red.  “I didn't say you would.”

 

“You don't have to.  Your constant hovering speaks for itself.  Have you considered just  _ trusting me _ ?”

 

Ziegler let out a small breath.  “You're right.”

 

“And also-  wait, what?”

 

“I need to just let you do your job.  It would help if you hadn't brought such  _ barbaric _ tools along, but you were asked here for a reason.”  She glanced at Moira, her expression tired. “I might not agree with you on everything-”

 

“Try  _ anything _ ,” Moira muttered, but Ziegler ignored her.

 

“But there's no denying what you're capable of.  I knew who you were even before the paper. Respected you, even.”

 

Now that was unexpected.  Up to this point, Dr. Ziegler had been curt, prickly, if not downright hostile towards her.  That she would suddenly make an open admission of respect like this was almost disconcerting.  Moira had always taken pride in her ability to remain calm and collected where others would have given in to their emotions, but Angela Ziegler had a bothersome habit of managing to get under her skin.  Moira worried she would never be able to get used to her.

 

“You might have mentioned that sooner,” she said, feeling like a petulant child. 

 

Ziegler tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a tick Moira had observed on multiple occasions whenever the younger doctor was flustered.  “I didn't see much point to it, but I'm telling you now, aren't I?” she bit back, a defiant look in her eyes. 

 

Moira was half-tempted to come back with a sarcastic retort, but decided against it.  It did seem as if Ziegler was genuinely trying to bridge the gap between them, in her own way.

 

“I appreciate that,” she finally said, realizing it was true.  She was loath to admit it to herself, but for whatever reason she found she desired Dr. Ziegler's approval.  Not that there was a chance in hell she'd ever tell  _ her _ that, of course. 

 

Several long, awkward seconds transpired before Ziegler cleared her throat.  “Actually, I have something for you. Gabriel requested it,” she hastily added.  Leading Moira to the back of the lab, she stopped in front of a small door Moira had never before noticed. 

 

“He thought it would be a good idea for you to have one, in the likely event that Blackwatch needs you in the field.”  She slid back the door to reveal a high-tech suit very similar in appearance to the one Ziegler herself was known for wearing on the front lines, except…

 

“Are those…  _ horns _ ?” Moira asked incredulously, noting too the intimidating black and red color scheme, contrasting starkly with the white and gold of ‘Mercy’. 

 

Dr. Ziegler smirked.  “I may have added a few personal touches I thought would be appropriate for the wearer.  A more  _ unique _ look, if you will.”

 

“Are you trying to imply something here?” she breathed, staring open-mouthed at the spectacle before her.  Despite the clearly intended insult, Moira found she wasn't at all angry. So, the doctor had a sense of humor after all.  She let out a small chuckle, then another, and before long she was consumed by laughter. Her belly ached as she threw back her head.  How long it had been since she last laughed like this, genuinely and without restraint? Too long. 

 

Angela stared at her open-mouthed, eyes wide in concern before she too began to giggle.  Soon they were both doubled over, tears streaming down their cheeks, until at last their laughter died away.  Breathless, Moira wiped at her face. “Well, you know what they say.”

 

“And what would that be?” Angela rasped.

 

“Isn't laughter supposedly the best medicine?”

 

Angela stared at her again.  “I cannot believe you just made a joke.   _ You _ .”  She shook her head.  “I can see that you're going to keep me on my toes.  You are full of surprises, Dr. O'Deorain.”

 

“And where is the advantage in remaining predictable?” Moira smirked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Angela chuckled again before reaching up to grab the headpiece.  “I'm sorry, you don't have to wear this. I may have gone a little overboard.”

 

Moira took it from her and turned it over in her hands, considering it.  “It was a clever joke. And I do like the colors.”

 

“And here I had done this out of spite.  Who would have guessed that  _ this _ is where it would lead?”

 

“You refer to the fact that we're actually getting along?”

 

She nodded.  “We'll just have to see if it lasts.”

 

*****

 

A month passed without much incident, until the day Winston perfected his chronal accelerator and Lena Oxton was once again a free woman.  Moira and Angela had continued working together to get a better understanding of Oxton's unique physiology, and while they had made some progress, there were still many unanswered questions.  However, with her condition stabilized and the next phase focusing on her perfecting control of the accelerator, the demand for biological answers came to a standstill and there was little need for Moira to remain with Overwatch.  She personally would have loved to stay and try and learn more, but she knew her desires had no sway over the decision.

 

“I need you back on your own projects,” Reyes had said to her only a couple of days after Winston's breakthrough.  Moira had acquiesced, and had been in the middle of packing up her equipment when Angela walked into the room.

 

“What's this?” she asked.

 

“My presence here is no longer required.  I'm returning with Gabriel to Rome immediately.”

 

“I see…”  Angela glanced away.  “Well, we knew your time here was temporary.”

 

Moira felt the corner of her mouth twitch.  “Is that a note of melancholy I'm detecting in your voice, Dr. Ziegler?”

 

“You're imagining things.  I'm looking forward to having my entire lab back at my disposal,” Angela said, but her tone was light.  Since the day of the suit reveal, the two of them had more or less managed to work cooperatively. They still butted heads from time to time, but without anywhere near their old hostility.  

 

“I too am glad to have my own space again.  It has been… quite the experience getting to work with you, doctor.”

 

“Not too terrible, I hope?” Angela smiled.

 

“Nothing I couldn't handle.”  Moira extended her hand, and this time when Angela shook it, there was a warmth that hadn't been there before.  Moira was surprised to realize that she considered Angela a friend.

 

“Until next time, then?” 

 

“Until next time.  Oh, and Dr. O'Deorain?”

 

“Yes, Dr. Ziegler?”

 

“Don't forget your suit.”

 

That had been the last words exchanged between them, nearly a month ago.  Moira had returned to Blackwatch headquarters and resumed her earlier work.  It had been relaxing, settling back into the old familiarity of solitude, but from time to time she found herself wishing for the banter that had developed between them.  Still, things returned to normal.

 

Until the attacks.

 

An investigation into a terrorist attack at an Overwatch facility in Norway had lead to the discovery of Talon involvement, backed by Antonio Bartalotti.  During the investigation, a second attack had occurred, this time at Blackwatch headquarters. Reyes and Jesse McCree had been present but mostly unharmed, but several others had been killed or injured, including Gerard Lacroix, one of Overwatch's best.  Morrison had been unable to officially sanction any kind of direct action against Bartalotti, but that didn't mean he was giving up, having other, less conventional options available to him. Those other means were why Moira now found herself, fully fitted into her Valkyrie suit for the first time, infiltrating Bartalotti's office in Venice, along with Reyes, McCree, and Genji Shimada, recently recruited into Blackwatch for field duty.  The night was well underway when they arrived, the darkness providing excellent cover.

 

Moira had relished the chance to get her feet wet.  She had recently developed a prototype weapon that would allow her to absorb energy from one person and transfer it to another.  Due to the nature of it, she had been unable to test it in advance. Only someone whose survival was irrelevant could serve as a test subject, and Talon would be full of prime candidates. 

 

Flanking either side of Bartalotti’s office door, Reyes gave the signal and they entered, McCree and Shimada keeping close eye on their surroundings.  Bartalotti sat at his desk, seemingly alone. He did not appear in the least concerned, or even surprised, by their sudden appearance. Moira felt the back of her neck tingle, senses on full alert.  Something was definitely not right. 

 

“We have some questions for you, Bartalotti, and they might take a while.  I suggest you don't put up any resistance and come with us quietly. It'll be less painful for you,” Reyes said, approaching the desk.

 

“Is that all you want?” Bartalotti chortled.  “Well, I'm afraid for you I'm not much interested in answering any of your questions.  I have nothing to say that I care for you to learn.”

 

“We have plenty of evidence that you're behind the recent attacks in Norway and Rome,” Reyes growled.  “And once we get you to admit it, that'll be the end of your power.”

 

“Get me to admit it, how?  By abduction and torture? Surely your precious Overwatch would never approve of such an unorthodox approach?  Ah, but that’s right,” he said, feigning sudden recollection. “You don't play by the same rules as them, do you?”

 

“That’s right.  Convinced to come along now?”

 

“Oh, but I think not.  You see,  _ you _ may not follow government sanctioned procedure, but everyone else does, and how do you think it's going to look for Overwatch once world leaders learn what lengths you took to get me to talk?  Nothing that I say will matter. They'll discard it, especially when you take into account all the  _ friends _ I have in the right places.  I'll be a free man again soon, and you and your little ragtag team here will be left in ruins.  So, I think it is  _ you _ who needs to leave quietly.  What do you say?”

 

“I say that makes your far too dangerous a man to be left alive.”

 

Before Moira had time to even process the meaning to Reyes's words, he had drawn the pistol from his side, raised it level with Bartalotti's head, and pulled the trigger.  The sound was deafening in the stillness of the night, and the Talon leader's body gave a violent jerk in his seat before slumping forward, head slamming onto the desk, utterly still.

 

Moira hardly dared to breathe.  Her heart was racing as she tried to wrap her mind over what had just taken place.  It wasn't supposed to have gone like this. Their mission was supposed to be gathering intel, not  _ assassination. _

 

“Reyes, what the  _ hell _ ?!” McCree roared.  “What did you just do?”

 

“You heard what he said.  He was right. Taking him in for questioning wouldn't have mattered.  At least this way, he can't be a threat to anyone anymore.”

 

“You just shot a man!”

 

“Like you haven't done the same?” Reyes snarled.  “You knew what we might have to do, getting into this job!”

 

“I've killed in self-defence, yeah, but what you did was just cold-blooded murder.”  McCree looked over at the body of Bartalotti, blood already dripping off the desk to form a small puddle on the otherwise spotless carpet. 

 

“What's done is done.  We don't have time to argue about it now.  Talon operatives will already be on their way.  We need to move.”

 

Moira shot a glance at Shimada.  Neither of them had said anything throughout it all, and she wasn't inclined to get into a conversation now.  Reyes was right, they could discuss it all they wanted once they were safely out of Venice. As they made their way quickly back down the hallway they had taken before, she couldn't help but feel that Reyes had a point.  With a shake of her head, she cast the thought aside.  _ Later _ .

 

They had almost reached the exit when the sound of multiple rifles clicking made them stop in their tracks.  Several Talon agents, all wearing the same dark uniform with their faces concealed, had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, weapons trained on the Blackwatch operatives.  

 

Moira's heart was pounding, and time seemed to stand still.  She had never been in combat before, but there was no time to reflect on that now.  Now, all she could do was follow Reyes's orders and believe that he would get them all out alive.  When he gave the slightest of nods, time snapped back, and chaos erupted.

 

Reyes and McCree broke away, drawing their weapons and firing without hesitation.  Shimada darted forward, almost faster than the eye could see, drawing as much fire as he could, bullets hitting thin air as he danced around the room.  Moira quickly activated the controls on her bioweapon and took aim at the nearest Talon agent. Almost instantly, his body seemed to weaken, and Moira felt a newfound strength flow into her.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bullet graze McCree's shoulder, and she quickly aimed her other hand and redirected the flow of energy to him. Even in the darkness, she could see the wound begin to heal, and she couldn't suppress a well of triumph.   _ It worked! _

 

The fight quickly moved from the entrance of the office and out into the streets, everything a blur as both Talon and Blackwatch agents clashed.  Moira worked as quickly as she could, stealing life energy from their enemies and giving it to her allies when needed, and as they made their way to the rendezvous point, the odds seemed to be in their favor.  They were nearly to the restaurant where their pilot awaited when a Talon agent dropped in front of her. Quickly, she raised her hand, but her enemy was faster, and Moira heard the gunshot a second before pain blossomed in her right shoulder.  She dropped to her knee, unable to contain a cry of agony. She had experienced plenty of pain before, but this was on a different level. Fire burned its way through her shoulder, and she wanted nothing more than to put it out. 

 

Her vision began to blur as she fought to stay focused through the pain.  Why hadn't the agent finished her off? But there was no one in front of her… just the dim lights of the streets, and the sounds of gunfire and metal mingled with shouting… a blanket of fog… clear… a hand around her waist, pulling her up… another searing shot of pain… a new voice… calling, calling, leading her forward… 

 

When Moira regained consciousness, she found herself lying on her back staring up at a dark chrome ceiling.  She bolted upright and immediately tried to raise her arm to fire off a draining blast, but found her movement restricted.  Then she remembered the pain, and she cursed at how easily she had been taken down.

 

“Glad to see you awake,” a voice said from nearby.  Glancing across the small space she now recognized as the interior of their drop ship, she saw Reyes staring over at her, his expression neutral.  Her bioweapon sat at his feet.

 

“We managed to escape, I take it?”

 

“All of us, thanks to you.  I don't know what the hell you did back there, but it saved our lives.  Just a few scrapes on the rest of us.”

 

Moira placed a hand over her bandaged shoulder.  “And what of my own injury? I assume it's nothing that can't be repaired?” 

 

“More than likely.  Bullet went clean through, I think, but we’re not really equipped for medical needs.  I patched you up as best I could, but we'll get you a professional opinion.”

 

“You do realize that I am a doctor, don't you?  I can tend to myself.”

 

“I don't doubt your abilities, but that might be a bit difficult even for you, considering you have a hole in your back.  Don't worry, we're taking you to the best. In fact, we're landing now.”

 

Moira had a feeling she knew who ‘the best’ was, and once their ship landed and a familiar blond head raced through the open hatch, her suspicions were confirmed.

 

“Moira, what happened?  Are you alright?” Angela cried, and Moira was taken aback at the level of concern in her voice.  Despite everything, she couldn't help realizing that Angela had never called her by name before now, and she liked the way it sounded.

 

“Nothing too serious, I can assure you, especially if you're the one attending to me.”

 

A faint smile flickered across Angela's face before she turned serious again.  Rounding on Reyes, she hissed, “What were you  _ thinking _ , Gabriel?  This wasn't supposed to be a combat mission!  You knew she had no battle experience, and yet your rashness nearly got all of you killed!”

 

Moira winced on Reyes's behalf, knowing firsthand what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Angela's wrath.  “Gabriel's actions may have been rash, but we were put in an impossible situation. He did what he felt was necessary.”

 

“I don't need you defending him.  You're lucky you weren't more seriously hurt!  Gabe,” she sighed, turning back to him. “I need to attend to her immediately.  You should check in with Jack. We've already received the initial report, but I think it's best if he hears it directly from you.  This isn't good, there's no getting around it, but we can at least start in on damage control. Right now, though, that isn't my problem.  This mess is your doing. Clean it up.”

 

Reyes's eyebrows knit together, and he looked for a moment as if he wanted to argue, but obviously thought better of it.  With a curt nod, he made his way off the ship. Angela turned back to Moira and her expression softened.

 

“Can you stand?”

 

“I don't see why not.  My legs are not injured.”

 

Angela gave a wry smile.  “You've never been shot before, have you?  The pain can send you into shock, especially when your body has never experienced it before.”  She leaned forward, brushing a few loose strands out of the way to place her hand on Moira's forehead.  Angela searched her eyes, every bit the doctor, yet Moira found herself mesmerized by the deep pools of blue, and her heart sped up ever so slightly.

 

“Well, I don't think you're at any real risk,” she said, snapping Moira out of her trance.  She mentally shook herself, thankful that Angela hadn't noticed her momentary lapse in composure.  “Come on, we need to get you inside.”

 

Moira rose to her feet and was pleased to find herself steady.  She wasn't sure how her dignity could survive if she were to stumble now.  She took a few steps and felt a gentle hand rest on her good arm.

 

“Just in case,” Angela said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

 

It didn't take Angela long to tend to Moira’s wound.  Once the damaged Valkyrie suite was removed, it was easy to see the extent of the damage.  Reyes had been right: the bullet went right through her, so all Angela had to do was clean it and close it up.  Moira watched her as she worked, her eyebrows drawn and lower lip jutting out slightly as she muttered to herself.

 

“Utter fool… jeopardizing everything… wait until I get my hands on him…”  Moira didn't have to ask to know that Reyes was the subject of her ranting, and smirked at the idea that he had more to fear from the doctor than anything administered from Overwatch command. 

 

“Dr. Ziegler… Angela,” Moira began, figuring she might as well go for first-name basis.  Angela paused in her work, a flicker of surprise followed by a faint blush crossing her face.  “I… want to apologize.”

 

“You don't have anything to be sorry for.  You're not the one who fucked everything up by deciding to go assassin.”

 

“Not for that, no.  For what I said some time ago.  About Genji Shimada. Why you…” she stopped, the words forming slowly.  This was turning out to be more difficult than she had anticipated. “As to what your intentions were, doing what you did.  I still don't think I was entirely wrong, but nonetheless, I was insensitive. I said what I said because I let my emotions get the better of me.  It was… most uncharacteristic of me.”

 

Angela blinked, her expression inscrutable.  Moira was starting to think she had only managed to make things worse, and she became uncomfortably aware of her heart thudding in her chest.  Apologizing like this was not her forté.

 

“You know, from anyone else, I would consider that a shit apology.  But from you… that was more or less a miracle.” She placed a hand gently on Moira's cheek.  “There might be a little room for improvement in your people skills, but I mean it when I say thank you.  I appreciate it, and I accept. I’m not exactly proud of how I acted, either.”

 

“We do seem to have a way of getting to each other, don't we?” Moira chuckled, and Angela quickly dropped her hand.  Moira tried not to focus on the warmth left on her cheek.

 

“Indeed we do, but I think I'm learning to actually like it.”  Angela shook her head. “I must be losing my mind.”

 

“We could all use a little break from routine now and again.”

 

“That's one way of putting it.  Now,” she said, her tone once again businesslike.  “You're going to be perfectly fine, and it won't be too long before you have full use of your arm again.  Still, I'd like to keep you nearby for a few days. Not here, though. Things are going to get hectic soon, and you absolutely cannot be seen here.”

 

“I can find accommodations close by, I'm sure,” Moira assured her.  “Although I'm certain your caution is unnecessary. I can attend to the remainder of my recovery on my own.”

 

Angela let out an impatient huff.  “I don't care. I'm your doctor, and I'm giving you an order.  I'll give you a number at which you can contact me directly once you've found a place.  Let me know where you're staying and I'll come see you in a couple of days.”

 

Moira knew it was useless to argue, and she was in no hurry to incur Angela’s fury.  Best to just agree peacefully, so she accepted the number without any resistance. 

 

The horizon was already tinted gold by the time Moira checked into a hotel her phone had directed her to some blocks away from Overwatch's base.  She had been unaware as to where they had retreated to, and was somewhat surprised to see that they were in Switzerland. Angela's home country. She felt the strangest desire to explore, to walk the streets and breathe in the air and hope to find something familiar, something to connect her in some way to Angela.  She tried to chalk up the feeling to exhaustion, and there could be no doubt that she was in desperate need of sleep. Having been unprepared for the sudden turn of events, Moira had no change of clothes with her. She would have to go shopping, as the simple black uniform Angela had given her wouldn't suffice if she was to stay here for several days.  

 

Stripping free from the uniform, she collapsed on the bed in nothing but her boxers, already feeling the blissful grasp of sleep overtaking her the moment her head hit the pillow.  Her last thought before unconsciousness consumed her was of pale, white-blond hair and tender blue eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a looooonng one, I know. I also feel like there was some video or something out there that covered the Venice Incident beyond what was shown in the comic (I know there's a CG image of them during it) but I didn't see it in the media on their website sooooo... no clue. Maybe I imagined it. Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing that scene, so even if there is a canon of it out there, I'm sticking with what I got. Not like any if this is canon anyway, yeah?
> 
> Also, the first time Moira refers to her as Angela instead of (Dr) Ziegler in her head is very much intentional. It's meant to show the moment her feelings towards her become more friendly.
> 
> Anywho, hope you're enjoying it! I know I've had pretty frequent updates and Im planning on continuing that! Can't make any promises though ahaha.


	4. Unforeseen Reactions

Days had passed, and still Moira remained in Switzerland.  Following Bartalotti's assassination, which had quickly become referred to as the Venice Incident, an investigation had been launched and Blackwatch's existence became exposed at last.  The fringe division was under investigation, but fortunately for Moira her involvement still remained undisclosed. Unfortunately, the heavy scrutiny meant that she was unable to return to work for the foreseeable future.  

 

Moira found her wealth of free time disconcerting.  Her preference was to stay occupied, to be always advancing forward.  That her work had come to a complete standstill like this, with no end to the hiatus in sight, was entirely unacceptable.  Contrary to her feelings after the night of the incident, where she had been sympathetic with Reyes, she now shared in Angela’s desire to wring his neck.  If not for his extreme actions, she would be back in her lab right now, sans bullet wound in her shoulder. As it was, she was at an utter loss as to how to spend her time.  Having already purchased new clothes for herself on the first day, she had little reason to venture outside, and her lack of knowledge of the area only served as further deterrence.  Not only that, but she had not forgotten the brief desire that had overtaken her the night she arrived, and try as she might to categorize it as a delusion brought on by exhaustion, a part of her was afraid that spending too much time in the Swiss atmosphere would reawaken it. 

 

Thoughts of Angela reminded her that the doctor would be paying her another visit that afternoon.  Despite Moira’s assurance that her injury was fine and that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, Angela insisted on making her calls and doing things by the book.  Moira strongly suspected she was enjoying the temporary authority being her physician granted her, but she found the idea more amusing than anything. Her recent lack of obligations had given her plenty of time to reflect on their strange and unforeseen friendship, and how naturally it had evolved in spite of their rocky beginnings.  She had been forced to recognize how much they had in common: both stubborn, strong-willed individuals deeply committed to their to cause, unwilling to back down in the face of adversity. Regardless of their different approaches, Moira had nothing but respect for Angela and, if she were to be honest with herself, was grateful for the opportunity to get to know her better.  She could not recall a time when she had genuinely enjoyed the company of another quite like this. Even more astounding, the feeling appeared to be mutual. 

 

She found that realization rather confusing.

 

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair, pushing aside wayward strands and thinking to herself that it was time for a trim.  It simply wasn’t practical to try and work when you were constantly pushing hair out of your face. She wondered how Angela managed.

 

As if on cue, there came a knock at her door, and Moira rose to her feet, subconsciously smoothing the front of her shirt as she made her way over to let her guest in.

 

Angela had come prepared with her usual equipment, although at this stage of the healing process not much was required.  The risk of infection had passed, the wound not much more than a scab. 

 

“How are you feeling today?” she inquired in her usual clinical manner, and Moira’s mouth gave a twitch as she suppressed a smile.  So very like Angela to be all business even now. 

 

“I am fine, as I have told you on your previous visits.”

 

Angela gave a small huff and directed Moira to sit and remove her shirt.  She patiently held still as Angela removed the bandage from her shoulder, feeling a warm tingle as gentle fingers carefully probed around the wound.  The moment to her seemed to drag on, unable as she was to focus on anything but the sensation of Angela’s touch on her bare skin, but then the contact was broken and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. 

 

“Everything checks out,” Angela confirmed, and Moira wondered if the slight crack in her voice was real or imagined.  

 

“As I assured you it would.  I highly doubt that further visits will be necessary.”  Moira did her best to ignore the twinge of regret at the words.

 

Angela sighed.  “You’re probably right.  It seems my tenure as your doctor has come to an end…” she trailed off, not meeting Moira’s eyes, and Moira’s mind raced in an attempt to come up with a response. 

 

“Would you care to get a coffee sometime?” she blurted.  “As I’m sure you are aware, I cannot resume my research at Blackwatch at this time, and I have no other obligations.  Perhaps you could help me get familiar with the area, too.”

 

Moira felt the blood rushing in her ears as she absorbed the words that had just tumbled out of her mouth.  Why had she said that? She hadn’t  _ intended  _ to say that.  Get coffee? See the sights?  Those were frivolities she never troubled herself with, let alone asking other people to do them with her.  The temperature suddenly became uncomfortably warm and she briefly considered asking Angela to double-check that an infection hadn’t set in after all. 

“That actually sounds quite nice,” Angela said quietly, and Moira was certain she detected a faint blush on her cheeks.  “I know a lovely cafe nearby that serves the best coffee in the city. Tomorrow morning then?”

 

“I… er… yes, if that… um, that is, if you have the time,” Moira stammered.   _ Tír na nÓg take me now _ .  

 

Angela cocked an eyebrow and smirked.  “I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”

 

Moira flushed, cursing her pale complexion.  “Right.”

 

“I must be getting back to my work.  I’ll see you tomorrow, then? Ten o’clock?”

 

Moira held the door open.  “Ten o’clock.”

 

As soon as Angela had left, Moira slumped against the closed door, hand balled tightly in her hair.  What in the actual hell had she just done? And better yet, why was she in a complete state of anxiety over it?  They were colleagues, friends, and going for a drink outside work was a completely normal thing to do, and yet she was behaving like an utter fool about it.  Trying to swallow past the lump in her throat, she paced the room, for what purpose she didn’t know. She grasped for something to keep herself occupied with and her mind off of what was to come the next day.  A part of her considered just going to bed, but that too was absurd. It was only three in the afternoon, and her mind was far too frantic for sleep to be an option. Of course, there were sleeping aids… but no.  No, she would not stoop to that. She would conquer this, mind over matter. 

 

In her aimless treading, Moira passed by the mirror above the hotel desk and caught a glimpse of herself: face blotchy, mismatched eyes bright, hair a disheveled mess.  Seeing the state she was in stopped her in her tracks. Taking several deep breaths, she decided her first step would be to do something about her appearance. The rest, she could take from there.

 

*****

 

Moira’s pacing returned with a vengeance that morning.  She had awoken early to dress only to find that every article of clothing she had purchased was utter garbage, which was confusing as it had all been perfectly fine when she bought it.  Finally having settled on a dark blue button up, lavender tie, and grey slacks, she turned her attention to her hair. Once again she struggled to find satisfaction, despite the haircut she had gotten the previous afternoon.  She spent nearly ten minutes carefully slicking it into place, but it didn’t seem to matter how she arranged it. Something was just off. Eventually giving up the endeavor entirely, Moira had checked the clock to see she had less than half an hour until Angela was scheduled to arrive.  Somehow the morning had flown by without her noticing, but time didn’t seem to be behaving properly. When she was certain it was past time, she checked the clock again to see that only five minutes had gone by. She had to fight the urge to tear at her hair. Suddenly, heading back into battle against a hundred Talon agents seemed more preferable to this agony.  

 

“It’s just coffee.  There is absolutely no reason to get worked up like this,” she muttered to herself.  “Just a perfectly ordinary ac-” A knock at the door interrupted her self-directed lecture and she nearly tripped over herself to open it, muttering a silent prayer to no one that she not appear too eager. 

 

As expected, Angela stood on the other side, and Moira realized that this was the first time she had seen her outside her lab attire.  She wore her hair in her usual ponytail, but in place of her turtleneck and white coat was a pale yellow blouse that hung loosely on her frame, the top button open to allow a glimpse of her collar bone, and a sky blue skirt hung just above her knees.  She had a simple handbag slung over her shoulder, and Moira noted that she had actually put on makeup, something she had never done in all their time working together. Moira realized that she had been standing there, staring like an idiot without saying anything, and hastily cleared her throat. 

 

“You cut your hair,” Angela stated by way of greeting before Moira had the chance to speak.  “I like it. It suits you.”

 

Raising her hand self-consciously to brush along her head, she nodded.  “Er, yes. Thank you. It was… getting to be an annoyance. In any case, I appreciate you taking the time to accompany me today.”  Thank goodness her voice sounded normal.

 

“I must admit your invitation surprised me.  I never took you for the casual outing type,” Angela mused.  “But I’m glad you did. I needed to take a day off, what with everything going on.”

 

“I would imagine so.  Shall we get along, then?”

 

Angela rested a hand on her arm, just for a moment, before nodding.  “Allow me to lead the way.”

 

The shop was a fairly short walk from the hotel, and Moira soaked in the unseasonably warm weather.  Angela chatted happily as they walked, pointing out various locations and offering up their history or what could be found there.  Normally Moira would find such talk tedious, but with Angela, she paid close attention, content simply to listen and admire the way the sunlight reflected off the white blonde of her hair, turning it a brilliant gold.  How it must look in the light of a sunset…

 

“Ah, here we are!” Angela suddenly exclaimed, pointing to a rustic-looking cafe on a corner just ahead of them.  Moira pulled herself back to the present, chiding herself for getting so easily distracted. As they took their seats and pulled up their menus, Moira let out a disbelieving chuckle. 

 

“Is something the matter?” Angela wondered, a note of concern to her voice.  “Is this place not to your liking?”

 

Moira took in their surroundings, the dark wood floors, gentle lighting, and quiet atmosphere.  It was definitely the kind of facility she could spend some time in. “No, it’s not that. It’s quite lovely here, actually.  It’s just… well, I’ve suddenly remembered that I hate coffee.”

 

Angela stared at her for a moment before bursting out laughing, causing some of the other cafe patrons to glance in their direction.  Moira buried her face in her palm.

 

“Are you quite finished?” she finally said through gritted teeth.

 

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, it’s just… that is so very  _ you _ .  Don’t worry,” she added.  “They have tea, if that’s more to your tastes.”

 

“It is,” Moira muttered, embarrassment eating away to her core as her mind scrambled to find a change of subject.  “How has Miss Oxton’s training been coming along?”

 

The look in Angela’s eyes said she knew exactly what Moira was doing, but thankfully she made no comment on it.  “Quite nicely, actually.” Before she could elaborate further, the waiter came by to take their order. Angela ordered breakfast along with her coffee, but Moira stuck with only a cup of Earl Grey.  

 

“Did you already eat?” Angela asked as the waiter left.

 

“I’m not particularly hungry,” was all Moira offered.  The truth of the matter was that her nerves had overworked themselves so much, the idea of putting anything in her stomach made her feel faintly nauseous.  “As you were saying before?”

 

“What?  Oh yes, Lena.  She’s really getting the hang of that chronal accelerator.  Not only does it allow her to stay anchored in the present no matter where she goes, but it also gives her a degree of control over her own personal time.”

 

“In what way?”

 

“She can move forward at the speed of light in short bursts, and even rewind for a few seconds.  There is a bit of a cooldown time, and it only affects her. Even if she rewinds, nothing anyone else does will be changed, no memories altered, not even her own.  It simply places her physical self to wherever she was moments before.”

 

“Can it even reverse injuries?” Moira inquired.

 

Angela waved a hand dismissively.  “In theory, but it’s not as if we’ve gone out of our way to test it.”

 

“I didn’t mean to imply that you had.”

 

“No, of course not,” Angela offered apologetically.  “Winston is currently working on expanding the radius.  Right now, it only has a range of a few feet, which means Lena has to more or less be wearing it constantly or carry it with her wherever she goes or become unstable again.  It makes certain activities challenging and still restricts her freedom to a degree. He’s hoping to make it powerful enough that she only has to be in the same room to benefit from it.”

 

At that moment, the waiter returned with their order and inquired if they would be needing anything else.  Angela shook her head as she thanked him, and he departed to another table. 

 

“And what of her family?  Have they been notified of her situation?” Moira inquired.

 

Angela gave her an inscrutable look for a long moment before answering, and Moira wondered what about she had just said had warranted such a reaction.  “They know,” she said slowly. “In fact, her parents have been to see her several times since her return. They were certainly furious enough after the accident and wanted to press charges, and we had to remind them that Lena is a consenting adult and had signed the waiver stating the risks.”

 

Moira chuckled.  “Good to know Overwatch covers all their bases.”

 

“We try to…” Angela trailed off, and Moira didn’t have to ask to know her thoughts had turned to Blackwatch.  She almost asked how the investigation was turning out, whether or not Reyes would be facing any penalties, but she suspected Angela had no desire to discuss such a heavy topic and she let it pass. 

 

Conversation soon turned to lighter subjects, and Moira hardly noticed as the morning wore on and noon came and went, so absorbed was she in everything Angela had to say, offering her own opinions or answers to questions as they were posed.  Talk quickly drifted away from Overwatch and into their pasts as Angela gave the story of why she had chosen the life of a doctor. 

 

“I’ve always felt drawn to helping others, even as a little girl,” she explained.  “I know, it sounds like I’m trying to paint myself in this wonderful light, but I’m not.  It’s just the truth. I have no tolerance for violence and suffering.”

 

“And yet you joined a military branch…”

 

Angela’s expression turned somber as she glanced away, chin resting in her hand.  “I would be lying if I said I approved of everything Overwatch does. There have been times when I’ve spoken up, tried to make a case for a more peaceful approach, but I am only one voice.  I know what they do, they do for the greater good. At least, that’s how they see it. And they’re good people, Jack and Gabe, and the others. But I’ve treated so many injuries, and so many of them I believe could have been avoided.”

 

Moira frowned.  “If you disapprove so much, why stay?  You’re an excellent doctor. Any hospital would gladly take you.”

 

Angela smiled at the praise.  “Thank you, and I’m certain I could easily find a job elsewhere, but Overwatch is everywhere.  It allows me to travel the world, lending my skills to so many more people than if I were tied to any one location.  So, I grit my teeth and accept that things are the way they are, and I do what I can to help as many people as possible.”

 

“It must get exhausting,” Moira said softly. 

 

Sighing, Angela gave a small shrug.  “Of course it does, but I get by. I’ve certainly been able to expand my knowledge a great deal since I joined them.  Their resources are unparalleled. But then, you know that. It’s why you agreed to join Blackwatch, isn’t it?” 

 

Moira was unsurprised at Angela’s astute observation, and she gave a brief summary of how Reyes had come to her in her darkest hour and offered her salvation.  She tensed as she spoke, wondering if by divulging the story she would bring up their old hostilities, but Angela listened passively and gave no indication that she thought any less of Moira for it. 

 

“I do still wonder why he never came to Jack about that,” she mused.  “I suppose it doesn’t matter now, really. Has he ever given you a specific project before?”

 

Moira hesitated, thinking back to Reyes’s earlier insinuations that he had something personal in mind for her to work on.  It had been a long time since he last brought it up, yet somehow Moira doubted he had forgotten about it. Whatever it was, she was certain it would be to the benefit of Overwatch as a whole, but something told her to keep quiet for now.

 

“Not really.  His primary stipulation was that I assist whenever required, but otherwise I was given free reign to work as I please.  I’m more or less left to my own devices.”

 

If Angela doubted the truth of her words, she made no indication.  “That must be nice, not having people barging in and out of your lab at all hours of the day.  There are times when I feel like their mother, yet I’m younger than most of them.”

 

“I can see that,” Moira chuckled.  “No children of your own, I take it?”

 

Angela snorted.  “Not a chance. I have my hands full enough as it is.  Like I said, I already have to babysit all day.”

 

“But you care about them.”  It wasn't a question. Moira could hear it in the way Angela spoke of them.  No matter how much she might grumble, they were her family.

 

“Of course I do.”  A questioning look crossed her face.  “And what about you? Do you care? About Gabe and Jesse and the others.”

 

Moira was taken aback.  If she was being perfectly honest, she had never given the matter any consideration before.  There had never been reason to, and yet… She thought back on the recent battle, how their lives had been placed in jeopardy and she had used her technology to help them, but why?  It would be a simple matter to say she had simply been using it as an opportunity to put her bioweapon to the test, that her actions were not guided by a desire to save her companions, and perhaps that was partly true.  But if they had died? Moira wasn't particularly close to McCree, and she hardly knew Shimada, but Reyes? It was thanks to him she was here at all, but was gratitude the same as actually caring? How would she feel if something happened to him?

 

“You don't know, do you?” Angela asked.

 

“I'm not… I have never been close enough to anyone to put much thought into those matters.  I suppose I would be… unhappy if misfortune were to befall them,” she said, uncertain how Angela would receive this answer.

 

“Don't you have anyone close to you?  Family, friends… a lover, even?”

 

“I care about you,” Moira spoke quietly, the words out of her mouth before she had the chance to think about them.  “You just might be the only real friend that I have.”

 

Angela’s lips parted slightly as she took in Moira’s words, letting their weight sink in.  Moira felt more exposed in that moment than if she had been fully naked in a crowded room. “Letting someone in”, as they called it, had never been something she’d ever felt the need, or desire, to do, and yet once again Angela had managed to work her way in and pull forth emotions thought long buried.  There was a rawness to it, sharp and uncomfortable, yet oddly satisfying, an itch painfully scratched. A hand reached out and closed gently on hers, anchoring her, giving her focus and aggravating that newfound rawness at the same time.

 

“It could not have been easy for you to admit that,” Angela murmured.

 

Moira let out a nervous laugh.  “I am not entirely sure I spoke of my own volition.”

 

“Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easy,” she teased.  “If it’s all the same, you mean a lot to me, too.”

 

“Do you say that to all of your patients?”

 

Angela smacked her hand without force.  “There you go with that sense of humor again.  Really, Moira, I never would have expected things to take this kind of turn, yet here we are.  So much has changed these past few months.”

 

“For better, or for worse, they have,” Moira agreed. 

 

“A bit of both, I think.  Ah, it’s getting late. I should be going.”  Angela rose to her feet, reaching for her wallet before Moira gestured for her to stop.

 

“Please, allow me.  The least I can do to thank you for you efficacious care.”

 

The walk back to the hotel was made in near silence, Moira’s mind far too distracted to hold much of a conversation.  Angela too appeared deep in thought as they walked along streets painted in the warm afternoon light, the people around them going about their business and paying them no mind.  Moira welcomed the easy silence, the chance to recharge and just  _ be _ while still keeping company.  Others might have attempted to fill the quiet gaps with idle chatter, but they knew each other too well by now to have any need for that.  

 

As they came to a stop outside the hotel, Moira turned to her and felt a sudden pang, a need for something that she couldn’t identify.  Angela gave her a small smile that somehow managed to mute the sun, and Moira felt her heart break a little. 

 

“Thank you for inviting me out today.  I had a lovely time.” A pause, then, “Will you be staying in town for much longer?”

 

Moira worked to keep her voice even.  “I do not know. I am still awaiting word from Reyes as to whether or not I will be able to resume my work, but I suppose I shall leave before long regardless.”

 

Angela’s expression was impossible to read.  “I see… will you let me know before you go?”

 

Moira drew in a breath.  “I will, if that is what you desire.”

 

“I would appreciate it.”  Her arm gave a slight jerk as if to reach out before deciding against it.  Straightening her shoulders and raising her chin, she said, “Goodbye, Moira” before turning quickly away.

 

Moira felt a strong compulsion to walk after her, to do… well, what exactly, she didn’t know.  Walk her back to headquarters? But that felt too strong a gesture, too overbearing, and she didn’t want Angela thinking she owed her any more time than she had already given her.  Instead, she stood outside staring down the darkening street long after Angela had disappeared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, this one was... surprisingly difficult to write. Still not 100% happy but it'll do for now. Don't wanna keep you guys waiting any longer, and I have got some fuuunnnn stuff in the next chapters I cant wait to get to. Until next time!


	5. Where Choices Lead

When the knock on her door came the following afternoon, so certain was Moira that it would Angela on the other side that it took her several moments to process the dark, imposing figure standing in her doorway.

 

“Gabriel?”

 

“Of course.  Why, expecting someone else?” he said with a knowing look.

 

Moira kept her voice carefully neutral when she said, “I take it Angela informed you of my location.”

 

“She did, yes.  I must say, it was a bit risky having her meet you here so frequently.  If the wrong person saw you two together, they might get suspicious.”

 

Moira scowled.  “Not that it’s your business, but she insisted.  If you recall, my injuries were a result of  _ your _ actions,” she said icily, pleased at the guilt that flashed across his face.  “Now, I’m assuming you have a reason for being here other than to lecture me over who I spend my time with?”

 

Reye’s expression hardened, and Moira finally noticed the circles under his eyes were much more prominent than usual, giving his scarred face a sunken look.  “Blackwatch is officially suspended, as of this morning. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

 

Her previous annoyances vanished as the ramifications of of his words weighed in.  She had no particularly strong attachment to Blackwatch as an organization, but without it, she would be right back to where she was when Reyes first came to her.  No laboratory, no funding, nothing. She had nowhere else to turn, and insufficient means for independent research. It would be far too much to hope that her former peers and colleagues would welcome her back.  That bridge had been burned long ago. Pulse pounding in her ears at the realization that her aspirations had finally been brought to an end, she braced herself against the doorframe. 

 

Reyes gave her a sympathetic look and laid a hand on her shoulder.  “I had a feeling you wouldn’t take that too well, but you really should learn to trust me.”  Moira couldn’t help but scoff at that, but he had piqued her curiosity and she gazed at him with cautious hope.  “I anticipated that this might happen, so I arranged for your equipment to be relocated several days ago.”

 

“And you’re only now seeing fit to tell me this?” she asked incredulously. 

“It was a precautionary move, one I hoped would prove unnecessary.  I saw no need to alarm you in the hopes that things would smooth over.  Seeing as they didn’t, I’m telling you now.”

 

“Be that as it may, it still doesn’t take the issue of finances into account.  Without continuous funding, I won’t get very far. Genetics is expensive work, as you know.  And all this also begs the question… why? You obviously have enough obstacles to deal with at the moment.”

 

“Two reasons: one, if they found your lab when they went to investigate, it would only have raised more questions.  The higher ups would want to know who exactly had need of a genetics lab within the division, and it would be damn near impossible to come up with a convincing enough lie.  Two, you still have work to do.”

 

Moira frowned, and was about to retort that yes, obviously she did, her work would never truly be over, before the underlying meaning of his words dawned on her.  “This is in regards to that ‘project’ you had mentioned to me some time ago, isn’t it?”

 

“It is.  We’ve delayed long enough, but I don’t blame you.  There were far too many distractions, but this suspension might turn out to be a blessing in disguise.  True, I’ll still be involved with Overwatch during this time -under careful supervision, I might add- but you’ll be free to devote all of your time to this.  And don’t worry about money. I’ll take care of that. You just focus on what you do best.”

 

“And are you finally going to tell me what ‘this’ is?”

 

“Of course, but not here.  I will say this, though: it’s unlike anything you’ve ever attempted before.”

 

Moira considered this, very much intrigued by the implications but suspicious he was overselling it.  Still, he was once again giving her a light in the dark, and she wasn’t about to refuse. “Where is my new base of operations?”

 

Reyes smiled, and Moira didn’t miss the glimmer of triumph in his eyes.  “I thought you might enjoy working in a more familiar location. Something a bit closer to home.”

 

“Ireland.  When do we leave?”

 

“ _ You _ will be leaving immediately.  I still have business to attend to here and will be joining you in a few days.  That should give you enough time to get settled. All your travel arrangements have been made.  A driver is outside for you now, actually.”

 

The suddenness of her impending departure gave her pause.  Of course, she was more than eager to resume her work, especially now that she would apparently have a new challenge on her hands to test herself with.  She should have been ecstatic, rushing to gather her things and be on her way as fast as possible, and yet she was hesitating. A gentle voice making a simple request came unbidden to her mind, and it must have shown on her face. 

 

“There a problem?  You can’t have much here to take with you?” Reyes asked. 

 

Moira knew in that moment that she was teetering on an edge for which she had no name, and that somehow the decision she was about to make would have a far greater impact on her life than it might have had only a few days before.  Why, she couldn’t say. She did not fully understand the draw she felt, pulling her back away from what she had always dreamed of and towards something entirely unknown, and an inner voice screamed that throwing away the opportunity would be foolish.   _ But which opportunity? _ she asked herself.  Her time to decide was up, however, and she looked to Reyes and shook her head. 

 

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

 

He nodded in satisfaction and left without another word.  Once he was out of sight, she pulled out her phone and began composing a text, stopping several times to delete what she had written, determined to convey as best she could what she wanted to say without coming off either too distant or too remorseful.

 

_ Something unexpected has arisen that requires my presence, and I shall be departing immediately.  I am unable to divulge further information at this time. I know this is likely not what you had in mind when you made your request of me yesterday, and I am truly sorry I cannot give you a proper farewell.  I sincerely hope our paths cross again someday.  _

 

Technically speaking, she wasn’t breaking her promise.  Angela had only asked her to inform her before she left.  The method had never been specified. It was a poor excuse and she knew it, but the unfamiliar guilt nagging away at her more than she could stomach, and she grasped for anything to help alleviate it.  Besides, what else was there to do? Wait around for however long it took for Angela to find the time to come and see her? Going into Overwatch headquarters herself was certainly out of the question. She staunchly refused to give acknowledgement to the same inner voice whispering that she was grateful for the excuse to leave quickly because a face-to-face meeting might prove more than she could handle.  

 

Once her belongings were gathered and her hotel key checked in, she made her way to the nondescript black sedan that sat waiting for her.  The driver exchanged a brief greeting but otherwise remained silent for the duration of the drive. That was unfortunate, because for once, Moira would have welcomed the smalltalk, as it would have provided a welcome distraction from the fact that her phone remained utterly and painfully silent. 

 

*****

 

Angela finally returned her text the following day, a brief reply saying it was too bad she had to leave so suddenly and wishing her well for the future.  She did not return the sentiments for a desire to meet again, and Moira firmly believed she had been reading too much into their friendship. In their line of work, it was quite common for people to come and go quickly, and while friendships might be made, it was unwise to expect them to last.  Besides, Angela already had several people she was close to at Overwatch. Moira, who so rarely allowed anyone close enough to get past her foremost exterior, had latched onto the emotional lifeline Angela had thrown her, long-buried needs acting of their own will in spite of her conscious wishes.  Now that the tether had been severed, she wasted no time in closing the lid on those needs once more. Yet it did not seal itself entirely, having been given a taste of freedom and unwilling to resign to nothingness again. However, once Reyes came to her and explained in detail his proposition, her other concerns were cast to the back of her mind. 

 

He had delivered on his promise and more, the undertaking so ambitious Moira wondered if it was beyond even her capabilities, but she relished in the challenge, her mind already at work formulating ways to make his idea a reality.

 

“I have the utmost faith in you,” Reyes assured her when she voiced her concerns.  “I wouldn’t have brought you on if I didn’t think you could do it.”

 

“Your confidence is appreciated, but it doesn’t change the reality of how difficult this will be.  How long have you been planning this?”

 

He scratched the back of his scalp, his trademark beanie sliding loose.  “A while. I won’t bore you with the how or why, and for a long time it was just a pipe dream.  Then you made headlines and I did some research on you, and suddenly it didn’t seem so impossible anymore.  If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

 

“Does anyone else know?” she asked.  “Have you discussed this with Morrison?”

 

Reyes scoffed.  “Yeah, right. You know what he’d say.  He’d shoot it down, say it was too risky without even considering that it just might be worth it.”

 

“He’d be right, you know.  There is a very high likelihood you will not survive the process, if I even bring it to that point.”

 

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped.  “Of course it’s a huge risk, but if it’s successful it’ll give me - give us - the greatest advantage imaginable.  The threat from Talon is far from gone, even if we did manage to cripple them. They’ll be back with revenge in mind.  And we can’t forget about the omnics. Things might be peaceful enough now, but don’t think I’m unaware of how tenuous that peace is.  If tensions escalate, if another war breaks out… you know how much the Omnic Crisis cost humanity. We need every edge we can hold over them if it comes to that, and it very well might.”

 

“You’re trying to make a case.  That isn’t necessary. I merely wanted to make certain you were fully prepared to accept the consequences.  I’ll start making the preparations immediately.”

 

And so their work began, a slow, tedious process that kept Moira up into the early hours of the morning on more than a handful of occasions.  As there had never been anything remotely close to it previously attempted, she had no prior research or even theoretical papers to refer to, which meant she was starting entirely from scratch.  It was maddeningly frustrating, and yet it gave her a fervent kind of energy, knowing she might be the first person in the course of human history to achieve true genetic reconstruction.

 

Reyes still spent much of his time with Overwatch and only stopped by every other week or so, which suited Moira just fine.  No part of this stage would have been of any interest to him, as it involved nothing but careful study and brainstorming notes.  He didn’t appear to be in much of a hurry and never once rushed her. As promised, he continued to supply her with adequate income.  The situation more or less felt like what they had back at Blackwatch, only with a single, highly ambitious goal in mind. 

 

Weeks turned to months filled with furrowed brows, sleepless nights, and innumerable failed test subjects.  Still, she was in no way ready to give up. She was prepared to take many more months, if not years, to attain success.  Patience was essential when it came to reworking fundamental human physiology. 

 

During the long winter months, Moira was occupied enough that she rarely had time to dwell on other, more personal matters.  Ideally, a clean break was the most reliable method for shedding the last of her lingering feelings, but she was slowly learning that matters pertaining to emotion were not so easily dismissed.  Try as she might to forget about her short-lived friendship, there were times, often late at night, when she allowed herself a moment a weakness and did a quick check for any news of Angela, any involvement she might have had in public affairs.  As Overwatch had been involved in nothing significant since the Venice Incident, there wasn’t much to be seen, but every now and then word of ‘Mercy’ assisting in some crisis or another made minor news, and Moira couldn’t help but take note of where she had been.  Why she bothered, she wasn’t sure, as they hadn’t exchanged a single word since the day Moira had left Switzerland. Still, it gave her some small comfort knowing Angela was out there, doing what she loved, just as she herself was. 

After well over three months, a wall had been hit and progress became stagnant, until one afternoon in late February, it happened.  It wasn’t much, and lasted so briefly she would have missed it had she blinked, but there could be no doubt that the rat serving as her current test subject had begun to dematerialize in a dark cloud before once again solidifying.  It scurried about in its box and let out a startled squeak, but otherwise appeared unharmed. Moira scrambled for her phone and sent Reyes a single word:

 

_ Success _

 

He responded in minutes asking for further details but she ignored him, focusing instead on the creature before her, waiting to see if anything more would happen.  She made careful notes of the precise alterations she had made to it, a painstakingly slow process, the most subtle of changes made after each failure. After nearly three more hours of observation, the rat did nothing else extraordinary, but she was far from deterred.  She hardly expected a perfect result on the first success, but she was most definitely on the right track. She had proven that it was possible, and that was more than she would have hoped for only a few months ago. Part of her wanted more than anything to call Angela and inform her of the breakthrough, but there was no sense dwelling on such an impossible desire. 

 

In the coming weeks, the weather gradually warmed and Moira continued to see progress.  She had given Reyes regular updates, so when he arrived without notice in mid-March she assumed it was to see firsthand what she had accomplished.  

 

“Reyes, I wasn’t expecting you.  I should think you would know by now to-” she began, but cut herself off upon seeing the grave expression on his face.  “Gabriel? Is something wrong?” A horrific thought crossed her mind. “Have they found out?”

 

“No, nothing like that,” he began, and she couldn’t help feeling a small wave of relief.  “But another one of my fears has indeed come to pass. Null Sector has begun an uprising in King’s Row.”

 

Moira vaguely recognized the term, but it was a moment before she remembered it as the name of an omnic rights group, one seen as extreme by many.  Judging by this new development, she could understand that point of view, but on the other hand… “London isn’t exactly known for its tolerance of omnics, is it?  Can we really say this isn’t justified?”

 

“It’s true they don’t have the best record when it comes to omnic treatment,” he conceded, “but such violent methods cannot be allowed to continue.  Innocent lives are going to be lost. Already have been.”

 

Never one to trouble herself much with politics, Moira had only rudimentary knowledge of the state of affairs regarding human-omnic relations, but even she knew of the inequitable treatment they had received there.  It was to be expected that many people would still harbor negative feelings towards them, but she knew many places had managed to achieve harmony to some degree. Yet London continued to act as if the Uprising had never ended, and now as a result they were threatened with another.  To Moira, they had placed upon themselves a self-fulfilling prophecy, and she was inclined to let events play out as they would.

 

“I know what you're thinking,” Reyes said.  “In a way, they brought this upon themselves, but if you think the violence will stay confined to one city then you're a damn fool.  These are terrorists, and terrorists will never be content with small victories.”

 

“Is Overwatch going to step in?”

 

“As of now, no, we haven't been asked, or even given permission, to get involved, but we're on red alert full-time.  We'll be ready to take action at a moment's notice.”

 

“And what of me?  Will you be requiring my assistance in the matter?” 

 

“I highly doubt it.  Remember, your connection to us isn't on record anywhere.  It would be difficult to explain your sudden involvement. It's possible we might call on you if the situation becomes out of hand, but that’s a last resort only.  My primary reason for coming here was to let you know this will be taking up all of my focus for the foreseeable future, so don't expect to hear from me much. For now, I want you to continue what you're doing.  You've made excellent progress and I don't want you to think this turn of events diminishes that. In fact, I'd say it only increases the urgency of your success.” 

 

She acknowledged his words with an incline of her head.  “You know I give my attention to nothing else, but it cannot be rushed.”

 

“I understand.  I'll update you if anything significant happens.”

 

After Reyes’s visit, Moira did something she had never before bothered with, and kept a near-constant newsfeed open turned to the takeover in King's Row.  While she believed Reyes had been honest in his promise to keep her informed, she knew only too well how easily distractions could occur in times of crisis, and she didn't want to risk missing anything, particularly any possible involvement by a certain doctor.  

 

Over the next few weeks, the situation continued to escalate as hostages were taken and more and more people lost their lives in Null Sector's call for omnic equality.  There was still no word of Overwatch getting involved, until one day, nearly a month into the uprising, Moira received a short message from Reyes.

 

_ Prime Minister expressly forbade us from taking action.  Jack looking to explore all options. _

 

Moira wondered exactly what Morrison had in mind, but she didn't have to wait long for an answer.  The day following Reyes's text, news sites everywhere exploded with the headline that four Overwatch agents had arrived in King's Row and were currently fighting their way through hordes of Null Sector’s omnic forces.  Heart pounding, she scanned through several articles for any mention of the names of the operatives involved and turned up nothing. Growling in frustration, she searched for any footage and managed to find a grainy live stream being filmed from somewhere in the air above the city.  The images were difficult to make out amongst the smoke and fire, but she quickly caught sight of a distinctive blue blur that told her Lena Oxton was definitely on the scene. She kept her eyes glued to the screen, hardly daring to blink for fear of missing what she prayed she would not see while knowing it was pointless.  

 

And then… yes, there.  A flash of wings and pale blonde hair gliding quickly amongst the chaos, and Moira felt her heart constrict as the blood drained from her face, a wave of raw terror crashing over her as she watched, helpless.  The panic was debilitating, far greater even than what she had experienced during her fight against Talon, urging her to take action, to do, to go… somewhere… something…  _ anything.  _  It was difficult to form a coherent thought through the mental fog, but her body was already acting of its own accord as she found herself pulling out clothes without caring what was grabbed and stuffing them in an open suitcase.  When she had gotten to her room from her lab, or where the suitcase had come from, she couldn’t say. Insignificant details were lost as her focus was trained on a single, all-consuming need:  _ Get to Angela _ .

 

At some point the whirlwind in her mind began to dissipate and she was able to gather a semblance of rational thought.  She needed to form a practical plan, a means of obtaining what she wanted, and rushing headlong into it without first thinking it through would not accomplish anything.  Moira forced herself to stop and breathe.  _ Where _ was she going to go?  London? Not likely. Getting into the city would be next to impossible given the current circumstances, and there was no guarantee Overwatch would still be there by the time she arrived.  The crisis could have ended, Angela and the others already heading back to base, or… 

 

“No, there is no ‘or’,” Moira muttered.  Any other outcome was unthinkable. 

 

Her instincts still screamed at her to get moving as quickly as possible, but she made herself methodically work her way through all available options.  She ruled out going directly to London, and attempting to contact Angela directly was off the table as well. Head to Gibraltar? Better than nothing, but still not a certainty.  There were several bases of operation the operatives might return to, and Moira did not know all of them. Then it dawned on her. Would Reyes be with them? She doubted it. He was still on probation following Venice.  Morrison wouldn’t risk involving him in another controversy, and there was no question that it had been Morrison who authorized the illegal mission. She pulled out her phone and, not wanting to waste time waiting on a text, called him directly.  He answered on the third ring.

 

“There better be a good reason for this?” he growled, voice low. 

 

“You might have mentioned to me what Jack was planning on doing.”

 

“I didn’t think it was of any concern to you.”

 

“I’m informing you now that it is.  Where will the operatives be returning to once the mission is complete?”

 

She heard him draw in a breath and knew he was fighting to keep his temper in check, but she didn’t care.  “That information isn’t relevant to your current assignment.”

 

“Let me restate that:  _ It is now. _  You have four agents in an incredibly dangerous battle and in case you have forgotten, I am very skilled doctor.  There is only one other I would put on par with myself and she is currently out there risking her life. Now you tell me where they’re going or I swear I will suspend my work indefinitely!” 

 

Reyes sighed, and she knew she had won.  He must have known how deadly serious she was.  Moira rarely raised her voice. “Rendezvous is in Switzerland.”

 

“Thank you,” she said, and meant it.  “I’m leaving immediately.”

 

“I know.  Is there any point in trying to talk you out of it?”

 

“You know there isn’t.”

 

“I figured.  And Moira?”

 

Any other time, she would have been thrown by his use of her name, but now it barely registered.  “Yes?”

 

“She’ll be okay.”

 

Moira ended the call without bothering to respond.  It mattered little if he knew the reason for her urgency, nor did his attempts at reassurance offer her any solace.  It changed nothing. As she quickly booked a last minute flight, the rational part of her mind asked what exactly she hoped to accomplish by going, but that too had no relevance.  She didn’t know what would happen once she arrived, what consequences she might face, but what did she care? She would gladly face anything they threw at her just as long as it meant being absolutely certain Angela returned home, free from harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh did you guys think the smexy times were around the corner? No, no, no, gotta make you wait a little longer for that >:3
> 
> That being said, it is *really* hard to write a science-based plot line when your scientific knowledge is... very, very basic. So there's lots of skipping details and BSing involved.


	6. Only Human

The plane ride was nothing short of agonizing, and when they at last touched down in Switzerland, Moira refused to believe it had only been three hours since she had spoken to Reyes.  She had attempted to keep up with the status in King’s Row, but sometime between leaving her place and boarding her flight, the live feed had been cut and no reliable news sources were able to get close enough to provide any real information until just recently.  The reports were now flooding in claiming the gunfire had ceased and the fight apparently over. Which side had won and who had survived remained to be seen, and Moira had to fight to keep the panic at bay. 

 

When she finally managed to hail a cab, her first desire was to head straight to Overwatch’s base, but common sense broke through the clamor in her head and talked her into first heading to the hotel she’d previously stayed at.  It was within walking distance of the base and would arouse less suspicion from the driver. The last thing she needed were rumors being spread. Besides, it was unlikely that the strike force had arrived yet, and she needed a place to spend the night.  She might as well be productive with her time. 

 

Once in her room, Moira took her time unpacking, moving methodically while keeping a careful ear trained for the sound of a craft passing overhead.  Once her suitcase was empty, she sat on the bed, staring at nothing, repeating the words over and over, desperately trying to reassure herself that Angela had survived.  She was tempted to check the news again, but held back. She wasn’t sure she could handle having her fears confirmed from an impartial source, from someone who didn’t know Angela and didn’t care, not really, about her wellbeing.  They would be reporting facts, not remorse, if the worst had occurred. Jumping quickly to her feet, she began pacing, not unlike the last day she had seen Angela, although her petty nerves back then paled in comparison to what she was feeling now.  What she wouldn't give… Worrying the tip of her thumb between her teeth, she continued wearing tracks in the carpet for an immeasurable amount of time until the roaring of a jet engine made her freeze. 

 

Darting to the window, she just managed to catch sight of a familiar-looking aircraft before it disappeared from her field of vision, but there was no doubt as to where it was headed.  Moira just remembered to grab her room key before dashing out the door and down the stairwell, not bothering to wait for the lift. There was no time. 

 

Moira had always believed in the importance of maintaining her physical health and took care to stick to a regular exercise regimen, but she was by no means an athlete.  By the time she arrived outside Overwatch headquarters after sprinting the entire way, she was panting heavily. Once she caught her breath, she took in the state of the place.  Expecting chaos, she was surprised to find the hangar bay open but empty. The transport ship sat idle, engines still hot, but there wasn’t a trace of those who had been aboard it.  Striding forward, Moira walked through the open bay door and into the compound, troubled by the apparent lack of security. Did that mean they had far more serious concerns to attend to, or did they simply not fear any kind of attack at the moment?  As soon as the words formed in her mind, however, the doors hissed closed behind her. With nowhere to go but forward, doubt suddenly overtook her and she wondered what exactly she planned to do now that she was here and, more importantly, what she could possibly say that would explain her sudden presence.  

 

What had seemed so simple mere hours before now felt infinitely more uncertain.  Get to Angela, make sure she was okay. It hadn’t occurred to her what she might do  _ after _ , regardless of what she found.  Would Angela even want her there, or would she be turned away?  And if Angela hadn’t… if she wasn’t there… The thought was too painful to dwell on but Moira forced herself to prepare for the possibility that she was about to discover the worst.  What then? She took a moment to reflect upon it and found she honestly had no idea. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that delaying obtaining the answer would not alter it, and kept moving. 

 

It didn’t take long before Moira heard voices, a jumble of several people speaking at once, impossible to discern one individual from another.  Her pace quickened until she turned a corner and came upon the source of the noise. 

 

The main room appeared to have been converted into a makeshift hospital bay, several occupied beds erected in rows, white coated medical staff darting between them.  Moira scanned the faces of the injured, but none of them looked even remotely familiar. Glancing about the rest of the room, she caught sight of Morrison standing with his arms tightly crossed, deep in discussion with Reinhardt Wilhelm.  Lena Oxton was hovering nearby, looking anxious. No one had yet noticed her, engrossed as they were in everything going on around them, so she was free to continue scanning the room, but still no sign of Angela. Where was she? Surely she couldn’t be… 

 

Moira’s palms began to sweat and she was on the verge of marching straight up to Morrison and demand answers when a familiar voice reached her above the din.  

 

“I’m coming, just hang on.  Those wings might be great on the front lines, but damn inconvenient in these tight spaces.”  Following the voice, Moira watched as Angela made her way from a side door while pulling on her lab coat, and in that moment the rest of room and its occupants faded to a blur.  Legs moving on their own accord, she stepped away from the outskirts and directly towards Angela, the name spilling from her lips with undisguised relief. Angela’s head snapped up, her confused expression quickly melting to one of bewilderment upon seeing Moira walking towards her. 

 

“Moira?  What are you doing here?”  Her voice held no joy, and her body quickly tensed.  Moira paused for a moment before continuing, stopping just in front of her.

 

“I saw what happened on the news,” she explained.  “I…” But now that she was here, seeing Angela before her, safe and unharmed save for a few scrapes, she felt her resolve begin to crumble and doubts come rushing back.

 

“Yes?  You what?” Angela demanded impatiently.  “As you can see, I have a lot of work to do here.”

 

Recovering quickly, Moira responded, “Yes, that’s why I’m here.  I thought it likely you could use the assistance.”

 

Angela gave her a long, scrutinizing stare, clearly debating as to whether or not she bought the story.  “Fine. You’re already taking a risk just by being here, so you might as well make yourself useful.” Nodding in the direction she herself had just come from, she added, “You can get yourself prepared in there.”

 

Moira swallowed heavily and nodded before heading off, aware that she had now caught the attention of others.  Morrison quickly caught up to her and she fully expected him to ask the same question as Angela, but his expression held no trace of surprise. 

 

“Reyes informed you I was coming, didn’t he?”

 

“He did say I should expect your arrival, yes, although he didn’t say why.  Care to fill me in?”

 

“I anticipated multiple injuries after seeing the reports.  I can assume the injured are the hostages?”

 

Morrison nodded.  “There were a couple we were unable to save, but rest we got.  Null Sector’s been suppressed, at least for now. I doubt we’ve heard the last of them, though, but King’s Row is safe.”

 

“That is good to hear.  If you’ll excuse me, I need to get cleaned up.”

 

Moira worked alongside Angela and the other medical staff for hours without rest, tending from one patient to the next, with Angela and Moira focusing their superior skills on those with the most severe injuries.  They did not speak except when their work necessitated communication, and Moira was grateful to be kept busy, her mind entirely focused on the wounded. Finally, when the last of the patients was sedated and in stable condition, Angela gave the all clear. 

 

“Get some rest, everyone.  I don’t foresee any complications, but I’ll have a bot on standby to wake me up just in case.  The rest of you can go home.” Not until the others had left and the room was empty save for the two of them and the sleeping invalid did she finally turn her attention to Moira. 

 

“Come with me.  We need to talk.”

 

Moira followed as Angela led them into a office much like the one she occupied at Gibraltar.  Now they were truly alone, and Moira had no idea what to expect. Angela stood leaning against the desk, arms folded loosely in front of her, not meeting Moira’s eyes.  She said nothing for several minutes and Moira longed to hear her say something,  _ anything _ , for the silence tore at her in a way she could not explain.  Once again, Angela was scraping away everything Moira had constructed and violently exposing what lay beneath, raw with disuse and sensitive to the slightest touch. 

 

“Why did you come here?” she asked again, voice low. 

 

“I already answered that, I had thought-”

 

“No,” Angela cut her off.  “I don’t think I believe that.  I know you’re a very skilled medical professional, but patient care isn’t what you  _ do _ , and now all of a sudden you show up saying you want to tend to the wounded?  That doesn’t add up.”

 

Moira stiffened.  “After all this time do you still believe me so heartless that I would not help those in need?”

 

“How can I know, Moira?” she cried, voice strained.  “You left so quickly and then went for months,  _ months _ without a single word.  I had let myself think, hope, that you cared, that you were more than the person I assumed you to be when we first met.  I wanted you to prove to me you were more, but then you were just gone from my life, and I don’t even know why.”

 

“As I recall, you never attempted to contact me either, not once.  You want to speak of having hopes for the other, and I too had believed I was of some importance to you, but your silence said otherwise.”

 

Angela glanced away again.  In the dimly lit office, she looked more tired than ever.  “That may be so, but I wasn’t the one who walked away.”

 

Moira’s head was a swirl of frustration and aching sadness.  There was so much she couldn’t say, not yet, and having to withhold the truth brought a bitter taste to her mouth.  “As I told you in my text, I was called away on urgent business. It was not my choice to leave so suddenly.”

 

“We always have a choice, Moira,” Angela said wearily.

 

“I chose to be here now, didn’t I?”

 

Angela sighed.  “And I still don’t understand that, either.”

 

“I was worried about you,” Moira said softly.  “When I learned you had gone to London, I… I had to make sure you were alright.”

 

Angela shook her head, and when she spoke there was a slight tremble to her voice.  “No. No, you don’t get to say that, not after all this time. Don’t you dare tell me I still matter that much to you.”

 

“But you do, Angela,” she said, hating the desperation in her voice.  She took a step forward, but Angela brought up a hand to stop her. 

 

“Please, Moira, I can’t do this right now.  It has been an unbelievably exhausting day and I cannot handle you showing up here and telling me all this.  I need you to leave.”

 

Moira’s heart had ached when she feared for Angela’s life, and it thrummed again now, a duller, resigned sort of pain that took away the last of her strength.  “If that is what you wish.”

 

Pausing for a moment in the office doorway, she took one last glance over her shoulder, but Angela was still looking away, cloaked in shadow, and made no move to stop her.  Moira left without another word. 

 

*****

 

Moira had fully intended on taking the first flight back to Ireland the next morning had she not run into Morrison again on her way out, asking her to stay. 

 

“I won't pretend to know what's going on with you or what you and Gabe have been up to, and don't try and tell me otherwise.  I trust him, so by extension I’m trusting you. I've already spoken to him, and he's agreed it's for the best if you continue to lend a hand for at least a few days.”

 

“Will we not once again be faced with the same problem as before, in that I'm not supposed to be a part of all of this?  I would imagine your entire organization will be under severe investigation now.”

 

Morrison dragged a hand over his face.  “You're right about that, but I'm taking the heat on this one, and I'm not letting anyone else in here while those people are recovering.  The Prime Minister is furious, of course, but he doesn’t exactly have a lot of support from his people right now.”

 

“I should think gratitude would at the top of his list.  At least London's civilians have more sense.”

 

“Not just them.  Several other world leaders are in our corner as well.  We ended a month-long crisis in a matter of hours, but the minister's pride is blinding him.”

 

Moira scoffed.  “Then he's a fool.”

 

Morrison gave her a tired smile.  “Glad you see it that way. So, will you do it?”

 

Weighing the decision in her mind, Moira could see no easy answer.  Selfishness or martyrdom could be ascribed to whatever she chose. Angela had asked her to leave, a request she loathed to comply with yet had fully intended to do if it provided some measure of comfort to her friend.  Now she was being offered a reason to stay, one separate from herself and her own desires. There could be no denying she would not even consider it had it not offered the excuse she needed. At least it was a valid one.  

 

“I will.”

 

The next afternoon, following a restless night’s sleep, Moira was beginning to regret her decision.  Angela had merely nodded at her when she arrived on sight, and she took it to mean Morrison had filled her in.  Much like the previous night, they worked without a word passing between them, far worse now in that much of what needed doing required confinement to the lab.  Being alone in an enclosed space made the tension almost palpable, but still they did not speak. Moira sensed no anger from her, however. Rather she seemed to be almost detached, working through her tasks mechanically, which became even more apparent when they both reached for the same scope, their shoulders bumping awkwardly.

 

“My apologies,” Moira muttered, her voice sounding unnaturally loud after the long silence.  Angela said nothing, her head tucked down. Moira started to turn away when she felt a tug on her coat collar.  She barely had time to register the hand gripping tightly in the fabric before she being pulled in by the back of her neck, Angela reaching up to meet Moira's lips with her own. 

 

The kiss started as nothing more than a gentle brush, Moira far too shocked to respond at first, but instinct soon took over and she pulled Angela in closer, kissing her back.  Angela wrapped both arms around her neck and Moira had to lean in to make up for their height difference but she hardly cared as Angela’s tongue traced her lower lip and Moira's fingers tangled in her long hair.  She was lost to the world around them, entirely consumed by sensation, every nerve burning wherever Angela's skin met hers. When they finally parted, both breathing heavily, Angela still had her arms around Moira's neck.

 

“You’ll forgive me if I'm somewhat confused,” Moira finally whispered, “after what was said last night.”

 

“That's because you're an idiot,” Angela murmured against her neck, and Moira felt a pleasant tingle where breath tickled skin. 

 

“I think you'll find my PhD says otherwise,” she chuckled. 

 

Angela took her face between her hands.  “I have no idea where you got your sense of humor, but you realize it's absurd, don't you?”

 

Moira turned slightly and kissed her palm.  “I can live with that,” she said before leaning in to kiss her full on the mouth.

 

She had been a fool, truly, to not have realized sooner that  _ this _ was what she had been wanting all this time, not recognizing the feelings stirring in her whenever Angela came to mind.  And how often that had been, even in the long winter months of isolation. There had been no denial, either, but simply a lack of understanding as to why her thoughts would drift to memories of moments shared even when they had no relevance.  Angela kissing her had awakened all of it, unlocking the truth that had been hidden for so long, and now she never wanted it to end. 

 

As their embrace became more impassioned, tongues pushing past lips and teeth nibbling playfully, Angela's hand drifted from Moira's neck, down her collarbone to her breast, squeezing gently, and Moira let out a small gasp.  Angela pulled them both back until she was pressed against the steel top behind them, and Moira wasted no time shoving their equipment aside as she pushed forward, forcing Angela onto the table. She felt legs wrap around her waist, restricting her movement, holding her tight.  Hands traveled over her face, into her hair as Angela kissed her with a fervent urgency. 

 

Moira slid a hand under the hem of Angela's shirt, feeling skin hot with desire.  To her pleasant surprise, Angela wasn't wearing a bra, and her thumb gently brushed a nipple, eliciting a moan of pleasure.  They likely would have let their passion completely run away with them if not for the pointed cough that sounded from across the lab at that very moment.

 

“How come I don't get that treatment, huh Doc?”  Moira's head whipped around to see Lena Oxton leaning against the doorframe looking entirely too smug.  “Sorry to interrupt, loves, but Jack wanted to have a chat with you, Angela.”

 

Moira hastily pulled back her hand and stepped away, face burning.  Shooting a sideways glance at Angela, she caught her smoothing the front of her shirt as she slid to the floor, her cheeks crimson.  

 

“Please let him know I'll be right there,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster, but Moira didn’t miss the slight rasp in her voice.  

 

“Sure sure, take all the time you need,” she said with a wink before dashing off in a flash of blue. 

 

They stared at each other, Moira's heart still thudding from both arousal and embarrassment.  The voice of reason said it was for the best that Oxton had walked in on them when she had. Any longer and they likely would have been in a far more compromising situation.  Finally, Angela let out a nervous chuckle.

 

“I suppose we might have gotten carried away.”

 

“Perhaps a bit.  Angela, I…” she began.

 

Angela laid a gentle hand on her arm.  “We will talk, I promise, but not now.”  Stretching up on her toes, she planted a brief kiss on Moira's lips, but it was enough to start her heart fluttering once again.  “Soon.” 

 

Moira gently smoothed Angela's flyaway hair into place, letting her fingers linger for a moment along her jawline before letting her go.  As she made her way out of the lab, Moira set about cleaning up the mess they had made. Fortunately, nothing had broken. Uprighting a fallen stand, she touched a finger to her lips.  They were raw and swollen, and the lingering taste of Angela, like honey and summer, curled them into an unbidden smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience pays, my friends 
> 
> (And yes, this is just the beginning)


	7. A Much Needed Respite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all you lovelies!! Before you read this highly anticipated (it is highly anticipated, right? I'm not getting ahead of myself) chapter, I want to take a moment and make a small announcement! I have created a Twitter account specifically for content like this fic, as well as other creative works! This means art! NSFW art!! Plenty of fun stuff if you care to follow over @SpicyMoicy ;]

As it happened, “soon” had to wait a little while longer, as they were kept busy over the course of the next few days until Moira was informed that her services were no longer required and she was free to return home.  

 

She and Angela continued to work side by side until then without any more…  _ interruptions _ , but she was surprised to find just how difficult that was.  Too many sidelong glances and unnecessarily brushed hands passed between them, communicating their desires without words, and Moira found herself longing for the moment when they could truly be alone.  When Morrison came to her with the dismissal, she almost throttled him. She had no excuse to linger yet knew she could not depart just yet.

 

“That is unfortunate,” Angela frowned when Moira broke the news.  “I did not anticipate you having to leave again so soon.”

 

Moira tensed, unable to help flashing back to how things unfolded the last time she went away.  Angela clearly understood what was on her mind, and laid a reassuring hand on her arm.

 

“Don't worry, we'll find a way to meet up soon.  After all of this, I don’t think Jack will argue when I tell him I need a vacation.”

 

Moira glanced around to make sure they were alone before leaning in to brush a kiss against her lips.  “You do so much, I should hope so.”

 

Angela gave her hand a brief squeeze before resuming her work.  “I'll contact you soon as soon as I make arrangements. Do you think Gabe will give you trouble?”

 

“Possibly, but I won’t let that cause interference.  Wherever you tell me to go, I shall be there.”

 

The plane had hardly touched Irish ground when the text from Angela came through asking Moira to meet her in Paris in three days’ time.  She had already booked a room at the Hôtel Beau Ciel and told Moira to plan for an extended stay. Moira was far from a romantic, but she was not so ignorant as to miss the underlying implications.  Paris wasn’t known as the City of Love for no reason, and she would be damned if she didn’t take advantage of this opportunity to put her best foot forward. On the taxi ride home, her thoughts drifted to the one bit of formal clothing she owned, buried away in the back of her closet, having been purchased solely to have on hand for the most elite events in the scientific community.  It had been worn all of once. A sly smile played about her lips as she imagined the look on Angela’s face when she showed up in that. 

 

*****

 

Imagination had not, as it turned out, factored in how Moira would react to Angela’s own attire on the evening they met just outside the hotel.  Their belongings were taken to their room by an omnic bellhop, leaving them both nothing to do but gape at each other. To Moira’s credit, Angela was indeed taken with the deep emerald tuxedo she had donned for the occasion.  A bit stereotypical, perhaps, but it contrasted nicely with her hair and fit her form perfectly. Angela, though… Moira could hardly decide where to look, everything about her was impossibly radiant. Hair pulled up into a bun bound by a string of crystals; sleeveless cobalt dress, its top half glittering with intricate beadwork and pulled into a deep v that did little to hide the swell of her breasts; full lips painted red, begging to be kissed; shining eyes framed by subtle smoke, all the more dazzling coupled with the vivid blue of her gown, looking nowhere but at her.  Moira’s mouth felt dry as she stepped forward and extended an arm, which Angela took with a warm smile. 

 

“You look absolutely lovely, Dr. Ziegler,” she managed to finally say, feeling as though she might swallow her own tongue.

 

“You clean up quite nicely yourself, Dr. O’Deorain,” Angela giggled.  “Am I to take it from your wardrobe that you are familiar with the Cabaret Luna?”

 

“Honestly, when you suggested the place for tonight’s activities, I had never heard of it before.  Fortunately I had the foresight to do a bit of research,” she admitted as they walked the lamplit streets.  While the city had once been a source of strife during the Omnic Crisis, it had since moved forward and become a hotspot of technological cohabitation, retaining its status as the forefront of art and culture.  Despite keeping up with modern technology, its cobbled streets and quaint architecture hearkened back to days long gone. 

 

Angela leaned in closer, resting her head on Moira’s shoulder.  “I hope you find it to your liking.”

 

“I think I’ll enjoy anywhere we go, as long as I am in your company.”

 

“To think you can be so charming.”

 

“When I so desire,” she smirked.  

 

Moira had known what to expect of the place from her research, but it was still somewhat jarring to find herself in such an atmosphere, so far removed from her typical surroundings.  She couldn’t be further from a lab if she tried. Angela had had the sense to make reservations, and they were seated almost immediately upon arrival. A little over half the tables were occupied, but even with the gentle music playing in the background, the noise level was still plenty low enough to enjoy a private conversation without having to raise one’s voice.  For this Moira was thankful, as she knew they had much to discuss over the course of their dinner. 

 

Wine was brought to their table, their order taken, and then it was just the two of them.  Moira had so many questions, so many things she wanted to say to clear the air of any lingering misgivings between them, but it was nearly impossible to recall any of them as she drank in the sight of the woman before her.  Fortunately Angela had retained some measure of wit, for she didn’t wait long before speaking up. 

 

“So quiet tonight.  Something on your mind?”

 

“Apologies.  I find myself rather… distracted,” she said with a pointed gaze, and Angela blushed.  “You cannot pretend to be oblivious as to the effect of that dress.”

 

Angela’s lips quirked at the corners.  “It was quite the deliberate choice, I assure you.  I’m glad to see it doing its job. Suggestive fashion aside, though, I do want to backtrack to the day we… that day at the lab.”

 

“I believe I stated my confusion at your sudden change of attitude.”

 

“You did, and you had every reason to.  I won’t lie, I was quite furious with you before that, for reasons already stated, but after your left that night I gave some thought as to what you said, and realized you were right.  It does take two, and I didn’t try and contact you either. We were both at fault…” She trailed off, her eyes thoughtful. “I supposed I was too stubborn to admit it, and I was hurt that you didn’t try and see me before you left.  It was easier, in my mind, if I told myself you didn’t care, but I couldn’t bear to reach out to you and have you confirm it. So I let it simmer.”

 

Moira had listened attentively, taking in her every word while appreciating the honesty in her admission.  It was never easy to acknowledge your own faults. She was about to attempt it herself when their food arrived.  It was exquisite, as expected, and they allowed themselves a few minutes of silence to enjoy it, for which Moira was appreciative.  It gave her more time to consider what she wanted to say.

 

“I don’t hold it against you.  I never did, really, but when you threw the truth in my face, I deflected.  What you said was true: we always have a choice, and I chose my research. I never stopped thinking about you, as much as I tried.  Lord knows I tried, but no matter how involved in my work I got, I would often find myself recalling something you said, or the way your brow furrows when you’re concentrating.  Or your laugh… The most ridiculous part of it is that I never understood why until…”

 

“Until I kissed you?”

 

Moira felt heat rise to her cheeks and she was grateful for the cabaret’s dim lighting.  “Yes. Until then. I… have not given much consideration to personal relationships, romantic or otherwise.  Even just thinking of you as a genuine friend was outside of my comfort zone. I think that was all I was able to process for a long time.”

 

Angela let out a quiet chuckle as she shook her head.  “I knew how I felt about you the moment Jack came to me and told me you’d been hurt in Venice, and it infuriated me to an unreasonable degree.  I had no idea if you reciprocated, but when you asked me out for coffee, I wondered… hoped… but you were so difficult to read.”

 

“Your feelings came to light when I was injured, and it took you risking your life for us to get to this point… perhaps we can stop relying on near-death experiences for us to be honest with each other from now on?”

 

The waiter then cleared their empty plates and refilled their wine, and Luna herself took the stage for her opening song of the night, a slow, romantic number Moira was vaguely familiar with.  They sat in easy silence for a moment as they watched other couples gradually make their way onto the dance floor. Head buzzing pleasantly from both the alcohol and the newfound emotional openness, Moira felt a surge of confidence as she rose to her feet and bent her waist into a deep bow, hand extended. 

 

“Would you do me the honor?”

 

Angela giggled as she took the proffered hand in her own.  “I was hoping you would ask.”

 

Moira lead them towards the middle of the room where they joined the myriad of partners tracing a slow waltz around the empty space.  She slid her left hand around Angela’s waist and pulled her close as Angela lightly grasped her shoulder, and then they were dancing. 

 

Their flow was effortless, their bodies in perfect synchronization with one another as they glided about and around those around them.  Moira was easily the tallest person in the room and had to crane her neck to look down at her partner, but she hardly minded. She didn’t want to look anywhere but at Angela, who met her gaze with ardent affection, relying on her peripheral to keep them from colliding with anyone or anything.  As the song came to a close, so too did their dancing slow until they came to a full standstill. Instead of returning to their seats, they remained where they stood, Angela leaning in to tuck her head against Moira’s chest. Moira felt time slow as she committed the feeling to memory before tilting Angela’s chin upwards and ducking in for the kiss. 

 

Her heart swelled as their lips met, and while it was certainly not their first kiss, it was the first to carry the understanding between them, the first to convey the depth and current of the river of emotion that now flowed freely.  The heat of passion was kept at bay, here in this public setting, but the merest scrape of teeth against her lower lip as they broke apart spoke of what awaited them. Angela seemed to have mastered the art of silent communication, for the gaze she cast from under her lids was heavy with unguarded desire, and Moira felt a sudden urgency to pay their check and leave.  When she suggested so as casually as she could manage, Angela offered no argument. 

 

“By no means had I intended to cut the night short, especially when you took the time to dress so nicely,” she chuckled as they stepped out onto the street.  The night air felt exceptionally cool against her flushed face. 

 

Angela reached up to brush a kiss against her cheek, aided somewhat by her heels.  “Well, the dress was going to have to come off sooner or later,” she murmured, voice husky, and Moira felt a stirring much lower than her stomach jolt through her.  

 

The trip back was relatively short and silent, the cool breeze serving to sober them up as they walked.  Moira’s mind was whirling at the thought of what they were heading towards. There was no doubt, of course.  She wanted Angela, wanted her in a way she had never desired another person before. There had been girlfriends in the past, there had been sex, but no one serious and no one in many, many years.  She was crossing uncharted waters and it both thrilled and terrified her. 

 

The omnic at the front desk gave them their key and room number and then they were in the lift, walking down the hall, opening the door, and the outside world was shut out.  Angela made her way into the bathroom and Moira stood awkwardly next to the bed -there was only one bed, of course- unsure of what to do with herself. She settled for taking off her shoes and shrugging out of her jacket, which she had just hung in the closet when Angela returned, her lipstick gone and hair cascading in loose waves just above her shoulders.  To Moira’s surprise, she wore a nervous, almost shy smile. In that instant, her worries melted away as she realized Angela was just as out of her element as she was. 

 

“It’s… I’m…” Angela took a deep breath.  “I want to do this right. To do you… I mean, do right by you,” she stammered, her cheeks blazing, and Moira’s heart warmed as she crossed the room to brush a reassuring thumb along her cheek. 

 

“If you think I have any idea as to what I’m doing, you’re sadly mistaken,” she said.  “We’ll learn this together.”

 

Angela gave her a thankful smile before wordlessly sliding her fingers along Moira’s tie, working the knot loose and letting it fall to the floor.  Guiding them to the bed, she lay back, pulling Moira down on top of her. They met each others’ eyes for one long, finalizing moment before leaning in to embrace.

 

There was no need for restraint now, their kiss full of all the fire and longing they had worked to hold back before.  Moira did not linger at her lips for long, leaving a slow trail along her jaw, down her neck, stopping now and then to leave a lingering mark that made Angela gasp each time.  Upon reaching her collar bone, she paused to appreciate the accentuated cleavage the dress presented before reaching around to tug the zipper at her back. Gently skimming her fingers along skin and under fabric, she slid the dress off one shoulder and then the other, the material falling away to expose beautifully fully breasts. 

 

For her part, Angela was busy undoing the buttons of Moira’s shirt with trembling fingers, fumbling now and again, but soon both of them were naked from the waist up, breasts pressed together as Moira bent in to resume nibbling along Angela’s neck.  Moving lower still, she flicked her tongue over a nipple already hard with arousal, taking it between careful teeth while pinching the other between thumb and forefinger. The sounds coming from Angela’s mouth only served to quicken the throbbing Moira felt between her legs, and she longed to remove the rest of the dress.  Only the absolute pleasure gained from forcing her lover wait, building her need until it was unbearable, kept her from rushing too quickly. Instead, she switched her mouth to the other breast, one hand caressing while the other twined in Angela’s above her head. 

 

“Please… Moira…”  

 

The words came in a tight breath, and they were all Moira needed to hear to pull back and slide the gown down over her hips, her ankles, onto the floor, so that nothing lay between her and what she desired except a tantalizingly thin piece of lacy black silk.  Moira quickly removed her own pants before grasping Angela’s thighs, holding them open as she grazed her nose along an inner thigh, stopping at the crook before doing the same on the other side, once again pinching flesh between her teeth just hard enough to leave a satisfying red mark.  Angela was shaking, pleading, begging for more when Moira finally passed over the lace covered mound between her thighs, pushing against soaking fabric, drinking in her sweet musk. She gave a few teasing nudges with her nose before taking the lingerie between her teeth and tugging it down several inches, using her hands to fully remove it.  Moira wasted no time in picking up where she let off: they had both waited long enough. 

 

The first taste sent her head spinning, so long had she been longing for it, but after the initial rush receded she greedily buried her tongue between swollen pink lips, sucking hard on her clit, alternating between precise flicks and broad strokes.  Angela’s feet crossed over her back, holding her down, pressing her in even closer. Some part of her subconscious reminded her to breathe through her nose, and she continued to work her mouth eagerly, savoring her scent and the feeling of soft, slick folds beneath her tongue.  It was utterly intoxicating. 

 

Without giving pause to what she was doing, she reached up to slip a finger inside, unable to suppress a curving smile as Angela’s moaning intensified.  She gave a few more flicks of her tongue before letting her fingers take over, penetrating deep as she leaned forward to once again bite playfully at her breasts.  Angela’s hands grasped at her back, fingers digging in tight as Moira's name escaped her lips over and over in a breathless gasp. Moira responded by sliding in a second finger, crooking the tips back while simultaneously circling a thumb over her bud.  A hard, deep thrust finally sent Angela over the edge, her back arching as her body convulsed, unrestrained cries of pleasure filling the room.

 

Angela's legs collapsed weakly to the bed as she continued to hold Moira tightly in her arms, her breathing harsh and laborious.  Moira's fingers were still inside her, motionless, until she brought them to her lips and ran her tongue slowly over them. Angela let out a whimper as she watched.

 

“Y… wh…” she huffed, unable to form a coherent word, and Moira made no attempt to hide her grin of triumph.  She barely managed to wipe her mouth in time before being pulled in for a blazing kiss, Angela's tongue hungrily pushing its way into her mouth.  Somehow she found the strength to push Moira over onto her back, swinging her leg over to straddle her hips. Moira felt dampness and heat and the gentle tickle of hair just below her navel where Angela perched, her hands running a tantalizing path down her own torso before coming to rest on Moira’s stomach. 

 

“You're beautiful, you know that?” she whispered.

 

Angela leaned in, running her fingers through Moira's disheveled hair.  “Mm, so nice to hear, coming from you, easy on the eyes as you are. Now,” she said, her voice taking on a dangerously teasing tone, “it's my turn.”  With that, she pinned Moira's wrists above her head with one hand while letting the other explore every curve it could reach. Her tongue traced the edge of Moira's ear before nibbling the lobe, and Moira let out a groan.

 

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Angela purred. 

 

Releasing Moira's wrists, she sat back, continuing to let her hands move over her breasts, down her stomach, tracing over her hips and up her thighs.  Moira closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensual caress, nerves alight wherever fingers grazed. She had never been so aware of her own body like this, turning in on herself, fixating on the most subtle of sensations.  She was so blissfully lost in it all that she had almost forgotten her lust until fingers trailed between lips slick with desire, and her eyes snapped open, an unbidden gasp bursting forth.

 

Angela kept her touch light as she parted soft folds, teasing the opening and lazily passing over Moira's clit, never using enough pressure to do more than elicit small jolts of pleasure.  Moira's breathing was coming in quick, shallow rasps now, and her body screamed at her to beg Angela to take her, fuck her senseless, but her consciousness resisted, determined to make Angela cave first.  Her willpower, however adamant, was short lived, as a few more taunting flicks was all it took for her resolve to crumble.

 

“Dammit Angela, just fuck me already!” she growled.

 

The wicked look that passed over Angela’s face made Moira swallow in trepidation as she realized she was seeing an entirely new side to her.  Surprisingly, it only heightened her arousal. 

 

_ Learning new things about myself, it seems _ , she thought as she accepted surrender.  

 

Angela shifted so that she sat between Moira’s legs, one arm wrapped around a thigh, holding it up with unexpected strength.  Unable and unwilling to move, Moira gripped the sheets tight as a delicate finger slid inside her, sending a bolt of white-hot electricity up her spine, blanking her mind.

 

There could be no doubt that Angela knew what she was doing, working her fingers in subtle ways that managed to touch all the right places, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and hard, rapid thrusts.  She added a second, then a third, filling Moira to the point of bursting yet never bringing her to the edge, pausing now and then to pull her back just enough to be able to build her up all over again. It was indescribably maddening and breathtakingly perfect all at the same time, and Moira couldn't decide if she wanted Angela to finish her or make it last forever.  Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, Angela changed position once again so that legs straddled Moira's face, her tongue already licking where her fingers had been moments earlier. So she wanted more, did she? Well, Moira certainly had no qualms about complying, once more indulging in Angela's salty-sweet taste.

 

Moira was nothing but sensation, touch and taste and smell, mouths working in unison, dripping sweat and trembling limbs and labored breathing until the orgasim crashed over her like a wave, spasms wracking her body as Angela's name tore from her throat.  Somehow she willed her tongue to keep working until Angela came yet again, and then she collapsed in a debilitated heap, utterly spent.

 

At some point Angela managed to pull herself up to lay her head against Moira's chest, her breathing still shaky but gradually returning to normal.  Moira wove her fingers through her unkempt hair, twirling long strands absentmindedly as she took the time to enjoy the sensation of Angela’s weight against her.  They stayed that way for so long Moira began to wonder if she had fallen asleep, but the idea was quickly dismissed as Angela propped herself up on one elbow and kissed her deeply. 

 

“I feel like I ought to say something, but for the life of me I can’t seem to recall most of my vocabulary,” Moira chuckled when they finally broke apart.  

 

“That was more than I think I could have managed,” Angela grunted.  “Oh, I’ve been wanting that for so long now.”

 

“Have you now?”

 

Angela gave her a playful smack.  “Don’t sound so smug. I saw it on your face the moment you set eyes on me tonight.  Believe it or not, you’ve gotten much easier to read.”

 

“Of course I’ve wanted you, _a rúnsearc_.”

 

They finally worked up the energy to get out of bed and clean themselves up, all the more difficult now that the adrenaline had worn off and exhaustion set in, but even through her weariness Moira was able to appreciate the way Angela’s naked form moved across the room.  Back under the sheets, Angela took up her position along her side once more, Moira wrapping her arms loosely around her before sleep finally overtook them.

 

*****

 

The next several days were spent roaming the streets of Paris, perusing various shops and finding new and interesting places to eat.  Their nights were spent much like the first one, their aching yearning barely contained throughout the day. Once, they came upon a shop specializing in products meant for carnal pleasures, and Angela suggested a wearable prosthetic to aid in their nightly activities.  Moira had difficulty containing her embarrassment, but the clerk hardly gave them a second glance. They had intended to spend the rest of the day enjoying the sights, but they had barely left the shop before exchanging a glance that sent them dashing back to the hotel, clothes hitting the floor before the door had even shut.  The purchase had indeed been a favorable one, giving Moira the entirely wonderful experience of being inside Angela while keeping her hands free. They hadn’t left their room again for the remainder of the day, opting to have food delivered. 

 

It seemed to Moira almost as if she were experiencing someone else’s life, the life of a person who didn’t have concerns beyond where to go for lunch and how to find exciting new ways to please her lover.  Yet as much as she was enjoying herself, her work and responsibilities back home loomed over her, drawing closer with each passing day until the time finally came when their bags were packed and their trip ended at last.  

 

Parting ways at the airport was far more difficult than she had anticipated.  She had grown accustomed to spending every moment with Angela, of being able to turn to look at her at any time, to hear the sound of her voice or her laugh throughout the day.  To walk away from that would be anguishing, but she also found in herself a newfound sense of hope.

 

“I do hope our next meeting will not be too far in the future,” she said as they awaited Angela’s plane.  The flight back to Switzerland was scheduled to arrive twenty minutes before the one for Ireland, and Moira intended to spend every second possible with her. 

 

“I hope so, too.  I know our work keeps us busy, but we will find time.  Perhaps if Blackwatch is reinstated, you’ll be able to stay closer… wherever that may be.”

 

“Overwatch keeps you mobile, I know.  Don’t worry, I’ve certainly learned my lesson.  I’ll keep regular contact this time, I promise.”

 

Angela shot her an affectionate smirk and rolled her eyes.  “I know you will.” Just then, the announcement declaring that Angela’s flight would now be boarding blared across the airport, and they exchanged one last long, impassioned kiss before she disappeared in the throng of bodies.  

 

Moira made her way in the direction of her flight, thoughts lingering on their last kiss and all the kisses before it, amazed that somehow, despite their less than stellar start and all the odds and obstacles stacked against them, they had managed to get to where they were now.  She had no idea what was in store for them, but she couldn’t help smiling, knowing they would face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left you guys hanging after that last chapter, didn't I? I certainly hope y'all can forgive me that


	8. Uncharted Territory

Returning to work proved to be an interesting experience.  Everything was the same as when she had left, yet somehow entirely different.  Her lab looked the same, her equipment was exactly where she had left it, her progress remained at the same point, and she still looked forward to what lay ahead.  But things didn't feel as they had before. Before, her life only revolved around advancing human genetics. Now, there was… more. Something outside herself and her work that mattered just as much.  Even as she picked up where she had left off, advancing from rats to rabbits, a part of her was always with Angela, wondering what she was doing at any given moment, lingering on the memory of her bare skin and unalloyed moans of ecstacy.  More than once she found herself lost in daydreams, and on one such occasion she came to to find the rabbit had hopped halfway across the room in a desperate bid for freedom.

 

Moira knew she should make a better attempt to veer away from wandering down such paths.  She should be devoting all of her focus to Reyes's project, but after the isolation and uncertainty of the last few months, she wasn't about to cast aside what had ultimately become her greatest source of happiness, a well to draw from in her lower moments.  It gave her purpose, a very different kind than what she had clung to in the past. Oh, she still had that, of course, but it no longer held her upright on its own _. _  It felt good. 

 

True to word, she and Angel did keep in regular contact.  More often than not, communication came in the form of texts sent at various intervals, but they made sure to set aside time for verbal chats at least a couple times a week.  As expected, the mood at Overwatch was tense following their interference in King's Row, but Morrison's words proved accurate. The organization had the support of the people of London along with several world leaders, many of whom strongly questioned the Prime Minister's motives for forbidding action in the first place.  

 

“There's been talk of reinstating Blackwatch soon,” Angela told her one night over the phone.

 

“Is that so?  I’m surprised Reyes hasn't said anything to me yet.”

 

“Well, it's just talk at this point.  Knowing him, he probably wants to wait until it's official.  But I figured I'd give you the head's up.”

 

“That is appreciated.  Hopefully circumstances will soon allow us to work in closer proximity to one another.”

 

Angela giggled.  “Is that your way of saying you miss me?”

 

Moira couldn't fight a smile.  “Of course.”

 

And she did miss her, sometimes with an ache so fierce it rocked her to her core, and yet she did not despair.  Rather, she found strength in the solidarity between them, comfort in knowing their separation was temporary. Still, it was trying at times, especially when factoring in the newly awakened desires Moira found herself contending with.  Prior to their vacation in Paris, she had never bothered much with satisfying herself physically, but now the need seemed to be always in the back of her mind. It was distracting, to say the least, and one afternoon in the lab she came to the decision that Angela needed to be made aware of her predicament.  Pulling off her gloves, she pressed the call button on Angela's contact and waited. She answered on the second ring.

 

“Well this is unexpected,” she said pleasantly.  “I hope everything is alright.”

 

“Oh, for the most part, yes.  The lab isn't on fire or anything, if that's what you mean.” 

 

“That is a relief.  What's on your mind,  _ mein Liebling _ ?”

 

Moira leaned back against her desk before answering.  “I just had something occur to me,” she said slyly. “A…  _ benefit _ , if you will, to my solitary working environment.” 

 

“And what might that be?”

 

“Privacy.”

 

“Privacy?”

 

“Are you alone,  _ a rúnsearc _ ?”

 

“Yes,” she answered with a note of suspicion. 

 

“That is most excellent,” Moira replied as she undid the fastenings on her slacks before sliding her free hand under the fabric, over the soft mound of hair, her long finger parting slick folds.  She made no attempt to stifle her gasp.

 

“What are you…” A pause.  “ _ Mein Gott _ , Moira, tell me you aren't…”

 

“Is there a problem?” she asked, her breathing quickening along with the friction.

 

“Aside from the fact that I'm starting to think you're actually the devil?” she hissed.  “No. None whatsoever.”

 

“You could always join me.  Oh wait, that's right. Someone might disrupt you.”

 

A frustrated groan sounded from the other end.  “I can't believe you.”

 

Her voice trembled slightly as she replied.  “Nothing is preventing you from simply hanging up, of course, but I suspect you're not going to.  Are you?”

 

“.... no,” Angela grumbled.

 

Moira grinned, forgetting for a moment that Angela couldn't see her expression, before sliding a finger inside, moaning into the phone as she did so. 

 

“ _ Schiesse,  _ Moira, you're the worst.”

 

“I haven't got much choice now.  After all, you're not here to fuck me, so I've got to do it myself.”

 

Angela said nothing for a moment, and it was easy to picture her leaning against a table, shoulders hunched as she gripped the edge in frustration.  It gave her immense satisfaction. When her next words came, they were a whisper touched with desire. “Come for me, Moira.” 

 

Oh, the triumph in a battle won.  She buried her fingers in as deep as she could, thrusting with renewed vigor.  “For you, anything.” And she would, close as she was now, helped along by the harsh breathing coming through the phone.  Her own moans were unrestrained as she brought herself ever closer, grinding her hips against her hand. She felt herself right on the brink of climax, just a few more-

 

“Oh,  _ chingados!” _

 

Moira's head whipped around so fast she heard a crack, eyes widening in horror as she took in the sight of Reyes standing in the doorway.   _ No, no, no, this isn't happening!  _ she thought frantically, her phone slipping from her hand with a clatter as she made a fruitless attempt to cover up the damning evidence.  

 

“What the hell are you doing here?!” she shouted, face inflamed with mortification.

 

Reyes's expression made his discomfort clear.  “I… I came, er… I needed to…” he stammered. 

 

“How many times must I ask that you give me notice before showing up?” She really,  _ really  _ needed to get her hand out of her pants but there didn't seem to be any way of doing so without drawing further attention to what she had been doing. 

 

“I tried calling!” he cried with rising desperation.

 

“Obviously I didn't answer!  Maybe that should have been a hint that I was  _ occupied!”  _

 

“With work, I assumed!  I didn't think-”

 

“Out!”

 

“But I-” 

 

She pointed at the door, taking advantage of the sudden movement to remove the guilty hand with as much discretion as possible.  “Get the hell out of here before I genetically modify your brain into a pile of functionless goo!”

 

Reyes backed out, muttering “I'll be upstairs when you're… composed” as he left.

 

Still shaking with rage and embarrassment, it took her several more seconds before remembering her phone.  A quick search revealed it to have landed on her desk, miraculously enough. She hastily retrieved it and held it to her ear. 

 

“Angela?  Are you still there?”  A part of her hoped the drop would have disconnected the call, but no such luck.

 

“I'm here.  Please tell me that wasn't Gabe I just heard,” she said, voice a strangled whisper.

 

Moira fought to keep her tone even.  “It was,” she grumbled.

 

“Oh no.  Oh, that is…. I mean, you can't deny… the irony is too much,” she choked out through what Moira strongly suspected was barely contained laughter.

 

“I'm so glad you find this amusing,” she glowered.

 

“I'm sorry, I just… I've got to go, I'll… we'll talk later,  _ mein Liebling _ ,” she said in a rushed breath before the line went dead. 

 

_ Fantastic, just fantastic _ , Moira thought, glaring about the empty room.  Sure,  _ Angela  _ could laugh at the whole thing.  It hadn't been  _ her _ direct superior walking in on… Oh, hell, she still had to face him.  The thought of going upstairs brought on a fresh wave of dread that pooled in her stomach.  What did one even say in situations like this? As she sat in the bathroom, face in her hands, she contemplated just…  _ staying _ there.  Maybe he would leave if she never went upstairs.  The throbbing between her legs certainly wasn't helping matters, but there was no chance in hell she would attend to it now.  As she waited for it to subside, she suspected it would be a good, long time before she could take care of such personal needs without Reyes's petrified face popping into her head.  She groaned. The  _ one _ time she made an attempt… between this and Oxton interrupting them that day in the lab, she was beginning to think she had a curse upon her.  It was a miracle room service hadn't gone into their room at the wrong moment during their vacation. Finally, she decided she couldn't put off the inevitable any longer.  She splashed cool water over her face, taking a deep, steadying breath before trudging up to the main house.

 

Reyes was indeed still there, sitting on the plain black couch in the living room, doing his best to appear casual.  He glanced at Moira when she walked in and quickly looked away, completely ruining the effect. With a huff, she made her way into the kitchen, retrieving her best whisky and two glasses.  Reyes finally spoke as she poured the second.

 

“Oh, thanks, but I don't need-”

 

“Who said one was for you?” she grunted before knocking back one right after the other without pausing for a breath, relishing the burning sensation as the liquor trailed down her throat.  His expression was somewhere between concerned and impressed. 

 

“Didn't think you could put it away like that,” he said.

 

She couldn't resist.  “I’m Irish,” she deadpanned.  That earned a laugh, and she felt some of the tension dissipate.  Letting out a satisfied breath, she finally turned to face him.

 

“Soo…” he began with an air of bemusement.  The look she gave him was murderous. “Hey, I was just going to say… I'm glad things with Angela are going well.”

 

Moira felt the heat rise to her cheeks once again. “Angela?  What on… what makes you think… what does she have to do with this?” she stammered.

 

He arched a brow.  “You're really going to try and tell me that was someone else on the other end of that call?”

 

“You couldn't have just let it go, could you?” 

 

Reyes barked a laugh.  “Oh, come on! You, of all people!  Always so serious, all business, Miss Never-Take-A-Break.  You're the last person I would have expected that of.”

 

Moira felt a muscle in her jaw twitch.  “If you breathe a word of this to anyone…”  She left the threat hanging. Let his imagination fill in the rest.

 

His raised his hands in defense, but the smirk was still in place.  “I wouldn't dream of it. I have to give you a little shit, though. The opportunity so rarely arises.  Honestly, I am happy for you. I always thought you could use a little...” He waved his hand vaguely. “Well, you get what I mean.”

 

Despite herself, a smile curled her lips.  “Thank you. Angela is…” She struggled to find the right words.  She wasn't one to discuss her private life too openly and had no intention of revealing the depths of her feelings to Reyes, and yet an understatement would be cheating Angela of what she deserved.  “She is quite an extraordinary person.” 

 

“Indeed she is,” he said with a small smile before his expression turned serious.  “I meant it when I said I'm glad things are going well for you two…” he began.

 

Moira tensed.  “But?”

 

Reyes sighed.  “Exactly how much have you discussed your work with her?”

 

“Hardly at all.  I informed her that at this time I was not at liberty to divulge any details, and she hasn't pressed the matter.”

 

He nodded but didn’t relax his expression.  “Good. I don't want word of this to get out regardless, but Angela… she would take an even stronger stance against it than Jack and would likely do everything in her power to get us shut down.”

 

“So you want me to lie to her?”

 

A crease formed between his brows.  “I thought you already said you had no intention of telling her.”

 

Moira frowned.  He was right, of course, but somehow being given a direct order made it feel… far more deceitful than before. 

 

“Of course I don't.  I just…” Just what? Until now she had never considered what she was working on as wrong, that withholding information from Angela was nothing more than a professional caution exercised in regards to experimental work.  In fact, none of her work had ever struck her as anything more than scientific progression, despite the criticism she had faced. She had always brushed it off as the sentiment from overly moralistic fools, yet Reyes's warning called to mind the words Angela had spoken during their earliest confrontations.   _ Progress, whatever it takes  _ had always been her mantra, but for the first time she felt a waver.  She was now being forced to face the possibility that the discovery of this project could lead to far greater complications than she had previously considered.

 

Never before had her work threatened to jeopardize her personal life.  Work  _ was _ her personal life, nothing else took up even close to the same level of priority, but now the two had split apart, running tandem and intertwining while still maintaining undeniable distinctions.  The realization gave birth to an entirely unfamiliar sense of conflict within her. It was most unwelcome.

 

“I’m sorry,” Reyes spoke, causing her to start as she was yanked from her tumultuous ruminations.  “I know this isn't what you wanted to hear.”

 

“You're right,” she said.  “But I probably needed to. She won't find out.”  Moira hoped her voice carried all the conviction her heart lacked. 

 

“Let's hope so.”

 

Moira glanced at the bottle of whisky still sitting on the counter and seriously considered pouring herself another glass, but the faint buzzing in her head cautioned against it.  Besides, she didn't need Reyes thinking she had a crutch. 

 

“We've gotten sidetracked.  You had reason for coming by, yes?”

 

At that, his face brightened.  “Yes, I did. Something positive, actually.  Blackwatch is being reinstated.”

 

“That is good news.”

 

“Yes, it seems that the support for Overwatch's actions in London have earned us a bit of a reprieve.”

 

“And how will this impact my work?  Will I be relocating back to Rome?”

 

He cleared his throat.  “Not exactly. You can be expected to be called upon for other business from time to time, but our personal project is going to stay here.  Too much risk to move it now that Blackwatch is public.”

 

“Is my overall involvement also to remain discrete?” she asked.

 

“I think that might be for the best, considering…”

 

“Considering the precariousness of the organization's reputation as it is, it’s best not to affiliate with one such as myself.  Do I have that right?”

 

Reyes didn't speak, but his silence and unwillingness to meet her eyes said all that was needed.  Moira let out a harsh chuckle.

 

“You don't have to look so guilty, Gabriel.  I knew from the start the conditions of my employment.  I did not expect that to change now. I'll admit, it is somewhat tedious to have to hide like a criminal whenever the wrong person comes calling, but I have made my peace with it.  While I have…  _ personal _ reasons for wanting to work in official spaces, I agree that maintaining this as my primary base of operations is for the best.” 

 

Unmistakable relief transformed his features.  “Well, that certainly makes things easier.”

 

Moira hesitated a moment before posing her next question.  “Does Angela know?”

 

“Of course she does.  She’s one of our top operatives.  Hardly anything official passes without her hearing about it.  And not hesitating to give her opinion, as a matter of fact.”

 

Moira couldn't help but smile at that.  “I’m sure she does. And how does she feel about this?”

 

“She told me that if I pulled another stupid stunt like Venice she would personally put me out of commission until my grandkids graduated college.”

 

“I didn't think you had any children.”

 

“I don't.”

 

“Hah!  Oh, I hope you took her threat seriously.”

 

“I've known her far longer than you have, O'Deorain.  I always take her seriously,” he chuckled. “I thought there was a little spark in her eyes when I told her, though.  Now I know why.” 

 

Moira attempted to scowl at him, but it was difficult to do so when her heart felt so light, and she quickly abandoned the endeavor.  For the time being, she was able to cast aside the internal dissention that had plagued her before, focusing instead on the comforting knowledge that they would soon be together again.  She took root in the swell of contentment that arose at the notion, letting it shield her from her anxieties, projecting the same thought until it solidified into a tangible reality.

 

_ I have nothing to fear _ . 

 

*****

 

Their reunion came at last less than two weeks later, and it was all either of them could do not to fall into a passionate embrace right then and there, but there was the slight complication of finding themselves in a crowded room.  Moira was all too aware of Lena Oxton watching their overly polite greeting with a knowing smile. She ignored it, but a part of her wondered who else besides Oxton and Reyes knew of the recent development in their relationship. She supposed it didn't really matter.  After all, they were doing nothing wrong, but Angela had given no indication of wanting to go public, and Moira wasn't about to bring up the subject. As the saying went, they would cross that bridge when they got there. For now, they would maintain a professional friendliness in the public eye.  Their less observable moments, on the other hand… those were another matter entirely. The instant they were alone in Angela's lab, Angela's lips were on hers, hands finding firm purchase on the collar of her coat. Moira wrapped her tightly in her arms, and it was several minutes before they broke apart, gasping for breath.

 

“I've missed you,” Angela whispered against her chest.  Moira wrapped a hand around the back of her head, stroking her hair as her heart thudded in her chest.  

 

“Being apart proved more difficult than I had anticipated,” she murmured.  “I like to think of myself as an independent woman, and yet…”

 

“I know what you mean.  What do they call it in America?  The ‘honeymoon phase’?”

 

Moira finally let her arms drop and took a small step back.  “I believe that is the term, yes. I never imagined it would ever apply to myself.”

 

“I suppose I should feel special then, hm?  Working my way into that mysterious heart of yours.”

 

“You've earned that,  _ a rûnsearc _ .”

 

Angela didn't reply with words.  Instead, she pulled them into an empty storage room that had once held Moira’s Valkyrie suit, shutting the door firmly before kneeling down to undo Moira's belt.  Moira shrugged off her coat, heart quickening as her pants pooled around her ankles, the skin between her thighs already slick. Angela then proceeded to eat her out with such intensity that Moira came within minutes, pressing a hand over her mouth to stifle the moans.  She stood on trembling legs, bracing herself against the wall with her free hand before sliding to the floor to return the favor, and it wasn't long before they both collapsed in a heap, panting heavily.

 

“They're probably… going to wonder… where we've gone,” Moira managed to say between breaths.

 

“To hell with that,” Angela retorted, pulling herself up to lay against Moira's chest.  She kissed her, deep and needing, and Moira very much agreed with her statement. When they had finally regained a measure of composure, Angela cracked the door open just enough to peer out.  Moira saw her shoulders sag in relief before she pushed the door open the rest of the way, the coast clear.

 

Pulling her coat back on, Moira let out a sheepish laugh.  “Why do I feel like a misbehaving schoolgirl?” 

 

“Did you even indulge while at school?” Angela teased.  “Somehow I can't picture it.” 

 

“I wasn't a complete hermit, thank you very much,” she said with mock indignation.  

 

“Oh, you are going to  _ have _ to tell me more.  I want to hear all about the wild college days of Moira O'Deorain.” 

 

Moira rolled her eyes.  “Don't get your hopes up, it was nothing  _ that _ titillating.  But I supposed I can indulge you if you join me for dinner tonight.”

 

Angela's eyebrows shot up.  “Were you not planning on simply staying with me for the duration of your visit?”

 

Moira blinked, taken aback.  “I… I hadn't really given the matter that much consideration.  I had booked a hotel in advance.”

 

“Well you better call and cancel.  Unless of course you don't  _ want _ to…” she trailed off, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

 

“Of course I want to!” Moira answered, perhaps a bit too quickly, but Angela's smile only deepened.

 

“I look forward to it.”

 

They managed to focus on their work for the remainder of the day, Moira having been called in to assist with the development of new methods for accelerated healing Angela had been working on.  It was quite the departure from her  _ other _ occupation, but she found the work oddly calming, although that might have been more in part thanks to the company she kept rather than the task itself.  When the day finally came to an end and they took their leave, it occured to Moira what it would look like if they were to depart together in the same direction.  Angela said nothing in that regard however, and once again Moira opted not to broach the subject. They passed a few others on their way out, but other than standard-issue goodnights, no one made any comment.  Perhaps she was just overthinking things. Again.

 

Angela's apartment was too far to walk, so a cab was hailed and they sat in companionable silence for the ten-minute drive.  Moira followed Angela's lead as she led them into the lift, and on the ride up to the fourth floor it occurred to her that she would be seeing the inside of Angela's home for the first time.  Something about that realization caused a persistently fluttering lump to form in her stomach. They had already slept together, yes, but there was a far greater intimacy in entering the place where she lived, seeing her personal belongs and the space she had crafted into her own.  It was an extension of Angela herself, a part of her Moira had yet to get acquainted with, and one more brick cemented in the path they were walking together. 

 

As Angela unlocked the door, she turned to Moira with an odd expression.  “Follow me,” she commanded. Intrigued, Moira obeyed, keeping her duffle at her side as she was guided down the hall and through a doorway on the right into what was clearly a guest room.  She couldn’t fight a pang of disappointment. Was she to stay here, then? Angela read her easily, though, and hastened to put her mind at ease.

 

“I just need you to wait here for about ten minutes.  Don’t worry, you’re sleeping in my room.”

 

Her curiosity peaked, gnawing away at her like a hungry wolf as she paced about the room.  There wasn’t much in it aside from simple furnishings, and the very air felt as if it hadn’t been occupied in a long time.  At last Angela returned, no longer wearing her work uniform. It its place was a simple black strapless dress that clung to her body in all the right ways, the bodice cut low, the hem stopping mid-thigh.  She wore no shoes and her hair hung loose in the way Moira had quickly taken a liking to. Her mouth went dry and it took every ounce of self-control she possessed to not pull her to the bed at that very moment, but Angela clearly had something planned and she was not about to ruin it.  

 

“I hope you’re hungry,” Angela said, and the strangled noise that came from Moira’s mouth in response was no where near any language she knew of.  Angela sucked her lips between her teeth, clearly fighting a smile. “Come on,  _ mein Liebling _ .  I do believe you asked me to dinner.”

 

Moira followed her back down the hall, taking the brief opportunity to appreciate the way her hips moved beneath the tight black fabric, but her attention was soon turned to the room they had now entered.  Planned something, indeed. Angela had prepared what could only be described as a classic romantic dinner, complete with dim candlelight and a bottle of wine on a table set for two. It was not something Moira would have ever thought to care for, but she felt her heart warm at the tenderness and genuity of the gesture, and she knew there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

 

“I hope this is okay,” Angela said with a nervous laugh.  “I’ve… never actually done anything like this before. I know it’s cheesy and cliche and over the top, but just once, I wanted to… to do something special.”

 

Moira gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  “It’s perfect.”

 

Dinner was an entirely enjoyable affair.  The food was delicious, and Angela admitted with a blush to having made it herself, revealing yet another detail about herself that Moira painted onto her mental portrait of her.  They talked and drank well after their plates were clear, truly relaxed, taking solace in the knowledge that they were finally,  _ truly _ in a place all their own without the risk of interruption.  Their genial conversation continued until the candles burned low and the warmth induced by the wine had taken hold and they could no longer ignore what they each yearned for, and then they were out of their chairs and into each other’s arms, fumbling around heated kisses at clothes that were discarded and left in a telltale path along the floor leading to Angela’s room.  They were naked before they hit the bed and then they were all mouths and fingers, gasps and moans and the screaming of names, and Moira clung to her with a feral kind of desperation, a need so instinctive and so powerful she thought it would break her if she couldn’t find a way to satiate it. Every touch, every breath, every shift of their bodies as they grasped at each other fed it, making it grow and change into something she had no words for.  She raked her eyes over every inch of Angela’s form, committing every detail to memory, drinking in the sight of her face as she penetrated deep, wanting,  _ needing _ to give as much of herself as she could.  

  
The hour illuminating from the clock on the wall was well past anything reasonable by the time the last of their energy finally drained away.  They had no strength for even words, but words were not needed. Moira lay in the dark, thinking that  _ this _ was what true contentment was before being lulled to a peaceful sleep by the warmth of Angela’s body pressed against her own and the gentle rhythm of her breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I thoroughly loved writing this chapter. I hope you lovelies enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	9. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY HERE!! For those that don't follow me on Twitter, I was intentionally delaying this chapter until after Archives started in case it had any major impact on my plans with the story. Incidentally, it did not, but I do still make mention of it, so it was cool to get to use new material like that. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Their lives settled into an organic, fluctuating rhythm after that, their respective individual lives keeping them busy, work requiring that they at time spend weeks apart, yet despite the unpredictability of it all, they continued to grow closer.  They maintained regular communication, and took whatever time they could to visit one another. Usually, it was easier for Moira to travel to wherever Angela found herself, but the time finally came, several months into their relationship, when Angela was able to pay Moira a visit at her home in Ireland.  She found herself unexpectedly flustered as she prepared for the imminent arrival of the woman who was, unquestionably, her girlfriend. 

 

The word still felt somewhat unnatural to her, as she had not applied it to anyone since college, and even then it had been unrefined, a concept at the fringes of thought that bore no real weight on her life at the time.  There was attraction, enough mutual interests to maintain a measure of conversation, and enjoyable enough sex, but back then her focus had been on her degree, and the girl -Moira couldn't even recall her name- had eventually drifted away without her paying much notice.  To say that the significance of the title was of far greater importance to her now would be a tremendous understatement. The fact that she was now in a serious, committed relationship with Angela Ziegler of all people was a marvel unto itself, and yet… it was quite real.  Moira was nothing if not practical, and she wasn't in the habit of questioning that which she could confirm for herself. 

 

As she spent a good portion of the day before Angela's arrival meticulously cleaning every inch of her home, Moira wondered if Angela had been just as fretful when preparing for her first visit, and felt a pang of sympathy.  The desire for everything to be perfect had been preoccupying her thoughts for the past several days, and now that Angela's arrival was only a day away, it seemed as if no matter what she did, there was always something not quite right.  Finally, at close to six that night, she gave up and accepted that her home was as spotless as it was ever going to get and that there was no sense stressing over it any longer. Logically, she knew Angela wasn't going to care much one way or another, and they were long past the point of needing to impress one another.  Pouring herself a glass of wine, she settled in with a distractingly long dissertation paper on genetic theory from the 1900s, chuckling in amusement at their medieval views on human physiology until at last she fell asleep.

 

Moira met Angela at the airport early the next morning via cab.  With work causing her to frequently be on the move, she had never bothered to purchase a car for herself.  When they arrived back at her home, Moira held open the door and did her best to keep her nerves at bay as she hovered to the side while Angela made her way through the entrance hall.

 

Moira had always had a preference for a more minimalist lifestyle, opting for a sleek, modern look.  The walls were white, the carpet a light grey, furniture a mix of black and white. She kept a few houseplants to liven the place up to a certain degree, but she had very little that was not a necessity of living, save one exception.  Aside from her plants, the only touch of color and personalization took up one small corner of her living room, and Angela noticed it almost immediately. 

 

“You're a Bowie fan?” she asked, not bothering to conceal her surprise at the sight of a rather healthy collection of records on a shelf that sat beneath a large poster commemorating a tour from long ago.  A vintage record player sat atop the shelf, its condition pristine. 

 

“How could I not be?  The man was a visionary, a genius, well ahead of his time,” she said, a faint flush heating her cheeks.

 

“Oh, don't get me wrong, I love his music.  I just never expected… well, you've never mentioned it before.”

 

Moira shrugged.  “It never came up.”

 

“I suppose not.  But still, it's interest- ...Wait a minute,” Angela interrupted herself.  She practically dashed over to Moira and took her face between her hands and gave her a suspicious, examining stare.  Moira swallowed hard. “Did you… artificially alter your eye color?”

 

The question was so unexpected it took Moira a moment to process it, and once she did it was all she could do to not burst out laughing.  As it was, she couldn't resist having a bit of fun. 

 

“It's called paying homage, Angela,” she deadpanned, and Angela's jaw went slack as she stared at her in disbelief. 

 

“I… I mean, that's… being a fan, I'll say.”

 

Moira's composure finally broke and she barked out a laugh.  “I'm kidding. I was born with them,” she admitted, earning a playful smack on the arm and a flustered glare in return.  “Actually, the heterochromia served as another draw for me, back when I was a teenager, another aspect of myself I saw reflected in him.  He was unconventional, controversial, queer… a man ahead of his time. He even looked a bit like me. I found in his music a source of comfort during my more trying years.”

 

Angela wrapped her arms around Moira’s waist and tucked her head against her chest.  “Thank you for sharing that with me,” she said softly. Moira buried her face in Angela’s silky hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  “It’s nice to learn more about you. Although I must admit, it's hard to imagine you as a troubled teenager.”

 

“I assure, there was a time, but don't expect me to break out old photographs,” she said wryly.  “But I am sorry I haven’t shared more of my past with you. I’ve never been in the habit of discussing it with others before now.”

 

“It’s alright,  _ mein liebling _ .  You’re working on it.  There’s no rush.”

 

Their visit began as many others had, enjoyable and relaxing, the two of them catching up on what had been going on in their lives since they last saw each other, yet there was one glaring difference.  While no attention was brought to it, it was of course inevitable that Angela would happen upon the door that led down to Moira’s basement laboratory, and while she said nothing about it initially, its presence hung between them and called to light that which they had avoided discussing for so long.  Much as they tried to keep their visit lighthearted, the growing pressure of the unspoken finally became too much.

 

“So, Moira,” Angela said over breakfast one morning, two days after her arrival.  “That work Gabe has you doing… er, you work on it here?”

 

Angela did her best to keep her voice casual, but Moira didn’t miss how her eyes darted to the door, which had somehow manage to expand to twice its normal size in the past two days.  Nor could Angela fully mask the curiosity that burned beneath the surface. Moira leaned back against the counter and sipped at her tea, taking a moment to mull over her answer, debating just how much she could safely reveal.  She knew she couldn’t reveal much, as per Reyes’s orders, but she loathed the idea of lying to Angela as well. 

 

“At times, yes.”

 

“I see… and you can’t… I mean, I know we’ve somewhat touched upon this before, but…”  Angela shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

 

“It was easier to ignore before, wasn’t it, when it wasn’t literally staring you in the face, yes?”

 

Angela smiled weakly.  “That sounds about right.”

 

Moira shook her head.  “I’m so sorry, truly. I would tell you everything, if I could…”

 

“I know, and I know you’re just following orders, whatever it is he has you doing, but…”  She stood and leaned forward against the kitchen island, staring forlornly at the lab door.  “That’s what has me worried.”

 

Moira set down her tea and frowned.  “What do you mean? Isn’t Gabriel a friend of yours?”

 

“He is, of course, it’s just that lately… things have been tense.  Ever since Venice, really. He and Jack have been arguing more and more lately, about which direction to take Overwatch going forward, about the political scrutiny.  Gabe seems to think the support we received following King’s Row is an indication that Overwatch should be taking matters into their own hands more often, that we should trust our judgement regardless of what politicians say.”

 

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission,” Moira muttered.  “And what does Morrison have to say about it all?”

 

Angela let out a tired sigh.  “You know Jack. He wants to follow protocol as much as possible.  He says London was an exception, not the new standard, to which Gabe says it’s easy for Jack to say that when the dirty work is on him now.”

 

“Meaning Blackwatch… yes, I understand it.  Before, when we were still an unknown, Morrison had no qualms about  _ breaking protocol _ and letting Reyes act as he saw fit, because none of it would trace back to him.  But now that we’re public…”

 

“Exactly.  Now anything Gabe does will reflect on Jack and Overwatch as a whole, so he’s monitoring Gabe much more closely, taken away much of Gabe’s freedom.  In a way, Blackwatch exists in name only now. It’s hard to have a covert ops team when the entire world is aware of your existence.” 

 

“While all of this is indeed valuable information, how does it connect to my work?”

 

“Because you’re basically Gabe’s secret weapon.  No one besides a handful of Overwatch agents know you’re working with us, so the world isn’t watching you.  And because I’m worried that he’s getting desperate, and desperate people do stupid, dangerous things.”

 

“Please do keep in mind that this project came about long before Blackwatch was discovered.”

 

“That may be so, but why keep it a secret from the rest of us?  The fact that he has you working here much of the time means he wants you where no one can see you, which doesn’t exactly set my mind at ease.  I’m sure that whatever it is, he believes it will be to the benefit of us all, but, well… it’s no secret that he can be reckless and impulsive.”

 

Moira let out a humorless snort.  “I have witnessed that for myself firsthand.  But you’re right in that this project will be to our advantage, if I am successful.  He is not acting selfishly.”

 

“That is somewhat reassuring, but can you honestly tell me that it won’t be dangerous?”

 

Moira stared down at her folded arms for several pregnant seconds before meeting Angela’s eyes.  “No. No, I cannot say that.”

 

Angela pursed her lips, nodded, let out a breath before walking over to Moira.  “I can’t say I’m surprised. And there’s something else I have to tell you, and I don’t want you to take it personally.”  Moira inclined her head in assurance. “I never approved of the formation of Blackwatch. In fact, I tried very hard to stop it from ever happening, but I was overruled.  I was just a doctor, what did I know about the finer points of war? I eventually accepted my defeat, but held onto my reservations. When I first learned that Gabe brought you on, not long after your… professional setback, I knew he had something planned.”  She paused for a steadying breath. “I know my initial opinion of you was wrong, and I trust you, Moira, I really do, just… please, promise me you’ll be careful.”

 

“I am.  I will be,” Moira said, cupping a hand against Angela’s face and gently brushing a thumb along her cheek.  “I do not foresee legal consequences as a result of my work. It is simply unexplored territory, but I don’t think-”

 

“I’m not just talking about the law!” Angela blurted, cutting her off.  “Of course that matters, but I don’t want you getting hurt.”

 

“That will not be an issue.  I am quite capable, and in any case, nothing of what I am doing is putting me at risk for physical harm.”

 

“I won't ask you to go against Gabe's orders, but not knowing… well, you understand how my mind can fill in all kinds of possibilities.  As I stated before, I trust you, but don't think that's going to completely stop me from worrying.” 

 

Moira gave her a warm smile.  “I know, it's in your nature. It's one of the reasons why I love you.” 

 

Angela's eyes went wide, and her lips parted to let out a barely audible “What?”  Moira stared at her in confusion, wondering what could possibly have altered her mood so quickly before her own eyed popped, comprehension dawning on her as she processed what she had just said.  

 

Her immediate reaction was panic, years of practicing emotional distance screaming at her to take it back, those words she had never uttered to anyone other than family.  But to do so would not only make her situation even more precarious, it would be an outright lie, and that understanding only fuelled her growing anxiety. How had that slipped out, and without her even realizing it?  She had just… said it. Those three little words, so naturally, so easily, and so honestly. That it was true… and she hadn't even been fully conscious of it. To make matters worse, trying to gauge Angela's reaction was beyond her abilities, and her entire body tensed as she tried to scramble for a follow up. 

 

“I… I mean, that is…”  Oh, this was not going well.  “Angela, I'm sorry if-” But she was spared from having to think of what exactly she was sorry for as Angela threw her arms around her neck, knocking her back slightly, and kissed her fiercely. 

 

“I love you too,” she said, voice thick with emotion, and when she pulled away Moira saw her eyes were glistening.  Moira thought her heart might burst as she bent down to return the kiss, their previous conversation cast aside as clothes were tugged away and they found a new use for the kitchen island.

 

Later that night, Moira lay awake long after Angela had drifted off to sleep.  The emotional euphoria had worn off, and her fears once again wormed their way to the forefront of her mind.  Angela's concerns were understandable, but they weren't what kept her awake. No, she found herself thinking back on a different conversation, some time ago.  Reyes's words played on loop in her mind, his warning ringing in her ears. Would Angela really react so harshly if she were to learn the truth? Surely they were stronger than that.  Surely she would understand, realize the importance of what they were trying to accomplish. They had come too far, become far too intertwined in each others’ lives to be undone over something so trifling.  She glanced at Angela, face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, and tried desperately to believe that Reyes was wrong.

 

*****

 

“Alright, loves, let's get a move on!”

 

Lena Oxton's voice rang strong in the hanger bay as she hung from the drop ship's open hatch.  Winston was already inside, with Genji Shimada not far behind. His cybernetics had been upgraded since the Venice Incident, a solid, polished chrome now covering his entire body.  If Moira didn't know better, she would have taken him for an omnic. She stood to the side, not part of the upcoming mission to bring in one of Talon's most prolific leaders, but she had particular reason to see off the strike team's final member.  As Angela strode into the bay, equipped in the latest version of her Valkyrie Suit, Moira felt her breath catch. Standing there in white and gold, wings protruding from her back with serene grace, she truly did look like an avenging angel. 

 

“Quite the impressive visage,” Moira said as she approached her.  “Talon would be wise to take caution.”

 

“My job is to make sure everyone gets back safe,” Angela said, chuckling,  “not to strike fear into the enemy.”

 

“That includes yourself, my love.”

 

Angela patted the pistol at her hip.  “That's what this is for. Although, I have absolute faith in my comrades.  They will watch out for me.”

 

“They had better,” Moira muttered with a slight growl as she kissed the back of Angela's hand.

 

Angela covered the back of Moira's hand with her own, encasing it.  “Tell me you won't subject any of them to any horrific medieval experiments if I don't come back?”

 

“No promises,” Moira said with a small smile.  “But you will return to me. You always do.”

 

Angela stretched up to plant a brief kiss on her lips.  “Because I'm good at what I do. Now, I have to go. I love you.”

 

“And I you.”  

 

With that, Angela -Mercy now, really, Moira couldn't help but think- turned on her heel, head high, and made her way briskly to the drop ship.  She cast one last glance at Moira before the hatch closed and she was out of sight. 

 

Moira remained in the hanger long after the ship had departed.  She likely would have stayed there until their return had Morrison not come in to check on her and remind her that she had work to do.

 

“I can't say I'm not surprised,” he said as they made their way back through the complex.  “You two uh… didn't exactly get along before. I guess I'm glad that's changed.”

 

Moira couldn't quite decipher his tone.  “Do you not approve?”

 

“It's not that… nor does it really matter.  She's a grown woman, she doesn't need approval in who she chooses to date.  It's more that, well, I've known her since she was a teenager. She's like a sister to me, and I just… I don't want to see her get hurt.”

 

“We have that in common.”

 

Morrison stopped walking and turned to face her.  “You love her?”

 

Moira bit back the urge to reply that it wasn't any of his business.  “I do.”

 

He nodded.  “Good. She needs someone who cares about her like that.  Not that she isn't perfectly capable of handling herself, but this job… it gets to her, I know it, even if she tries to hide it.  It makes me feel better, knowing she has someone to come home to. Anyway, enough of that… just the ramblings of an old man… I should let you get back to work.”

 

As Moira returned to her lab and resumed her work, she pondered Morrison's words.  She knew he didn't have any hidden meaning to them. At least, she didn't think he did, and yet… Something was nagging at her, some answer to a deeper question she hadn't even thought to ask.  There was something more she could do,  _ should _ do, to assure Angela, let her know she would always be there for her, always love her, no matter where their work took them or what dangers they might face.  Thinking it over was certainly a welcome distraction from spending her afternoon worrying over Angela's wellbeing. When the solution finally dawned on her, it seemed so simple, so obvious, she wondered as to how she hadn't thought of it sooner.  

 

They had been together for nearly a year now, made their relationship work despite the frequency with which they were kept apart.  She was the only woman Moira had ever loved, and at 42 years old, she didn't see herself falling again, if the first time had taken this long.  She knew with certainty that this was it for her, and there was only one thing to be done for it.

 

It was time to ask Angela to marry her.

 

*****

 

The ring had sat at the bottom of her underwear drawer for three weeks.   Moira had been waiting for the right moment to “pop the question”, as the saying went, but so far, it had not presented itself.  Ever since her return from their mission, Angela had been consumed in the follow up work, and as such, there had been precious little time for them to be alone.  Moira knew this was a life-changing decision, and she wasn't about to ask it in a rushed minute of downtime. It frustrated her, not having any chance to see her alone, but logically she knew there was no rush.  Still, she had had more than enough time to think it over, and she was more certain now than ever that this was what she wanted. She could only hope that Angela felt the same. Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of her phone, and the sight of Angela's name on the screen brought with it a now-familiar sense of warmth.

 

“Always good to hear from you, Angela,” she said by means of greeting.  

 

“Moira, when did you last check the news?” Her voice sounded strained, and Moira felt a knot form in her stomach.  

 

“Not any time recently… why?”

 

“Turn it on.  Quickly. It doesn't matter what station.”  The urgency with which she spoke now had Moira practically trembling as she fumbled for the remote.  She already had it turned to a news station (she never watched anything else), so the reason for Angela's tone became apparent right away, and Moira felt her blood run cold.

 

“-following reports that discredited geneticist Moira O'Deorain was involved in the infamous ‘Venice Incident’ last year have revealed that she is in fact connected to the controversial Overwatch subdivision, Blackwatch, which came into public light following said incident.  Her presence was not known at the time, but anonymous sources suggested her involvement, which has proven to be accurate. For those unaware, Doctor O'Deorain was a prominent figure in the field of human genetics until the publication of a controversial thesis two years ago which seemingly brought her career to an end.  She has not made any public appearances in the time since and has more or less faded to obscurity until now. Many will wonder why Overwatch would choose to employ such a controversial figure, although it would appear that they have done everything in their power to keep that fact in the dark. Exactly when and why they hired her remains to be seen, but there can be no doubt that further investigation is underway.”

 

There was her own face staring out at her, an older photo from a conference some years before plastered on the screen next to the news anchor.  Moira wasn't entirely certain she had even blinked since turning on the television, and it wasn't until she felt a painful stab in her fingers that she became aware of the phone still clenched tightly in her fist.  Somehow, over the blood pounding in her ears, she managed to make out Angela's voice calling through. She quickly pulled it to her ear.

 

“-know this is bad, but Moira, it's going to be okay.  You haven't done anything wrong. This is going to be on Overwatch more than anything, and I promise, I'm with you.  I'll be by your side through all this, I won't-”

 

“No, wait, Angela, listen to me,” Moira said, finally finding her voice.  “You can't do that.”

 

“What?”

 

“You don't know anything, understand?  You were kept in the dark about my employment.”

 

“Moira, no, I'm not going to do that!”

 

“You have to.  If this doesn't end well… I refuse to tarnish your name.  I will face whatever comes of this, and so will Reyes, Morrison… those at the top.  But I don't want you or Lena or anyone else to bear this burden.”

 

Angela was silent for several seconds, but Moira could hear her breathing over the sound of her own pounding heart.  “You know I would never abandon you like that. I want to be by your side in this. That's what partners  _ do.” _

 

Moira's throat felt dry as she fought to keep her voice steady.  She was not successful. “I know. And I know I'm a damn hypocrite for this because if the situation were reversed I wouldn't back down, but please, I'm begging you… Believe me when I say it's enough to know you're willing to stand by me, but I couldn't bear knowing I was responsible for bringing you down.  My reputation is already in tatters, but yours doesn't have to be. People look to you as a symbol of hope and kindness. They don't need to know you're associated with… with someone like me.”

 

“‘Someone like you’.  Moira, don't make me remind you again…”

 

“Please, Angela, do this for me.”

 

Another pause, so long it seemed that Moira wondered if she had hung up, but no, the line wasn't dead.  “If it means that much to you… alright. I'll do it.”

 

Moira let out a sigh of relief.  “Thank you. It's for the best. We'll need to be careful, too, going forward, at least for now.”

 

“I understand.  I… dammit, I hate this.  It isn't fair to you. To us.  But we'll get through it. I know we will.  Never doubt how much I love you.”

 

“I won't.  I should probably go.  I expect I am going to have some questions to answer very soon.  I need to prepare. I love you, Angela.”

  
She ended the call before she broke entirely, for fear that if she did, nothing she said would convince Angela to maintain a facade of ignorance.   _ It's not fair to us _ .  Angela had no way of knowing how hard those words had hit and, as Moira glanced towards her dresser and the small box that lay within it, knew that she never could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheheheheh what does she have planned now, you wonder? Stay tuned, just two chapters left after this!


	10. At Road's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! This chapter was really tough to get through, and I've also been prepping for a con. But here it is!! And the good news is I pretty much know exactly how the final chapter will go, so there shouldn't be such a long delay.

Reyes shut the door behind the last of the UN Special Investigators almost before they had fully left the office.  Moira sunk into her chair, fingertips massaging her forehead, hoping for some measure of relief from the near-constant tension she had been feeling for the past week.  She was hard-pressed to recall a time when she  _ didn't _ have a knot in her shoulders.  Reyes and Morrison had done their best to diffuse the situation, but further inquiries into her secretive employment were unavoidable.  In the time since the story had dropped, she had been fielding reporters and government officials left and right. Her work had, of course, come to a screeching halt.

 

“I suppose it's a good thing I had you keep that project at home, huh?” Reyes said after a minute, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.  He tried to keep his tone light, but Moira knew him well enough by now to hear the strain in his voice. He was, quite possibly, even more stressed than she was.  After all, he had so much more riding on the outcome.

 

“Obviously.  But you knew this was a possibility, didn't you?  It is no coincidence.”

 

“No, it's not.  Always have a back door, I say.”

 

Moira sighed.  “How much longer must I endure this?”

 

“Hopefully not much longer,” he replied.  “There was nothing incriminating found at the lab back in Rome.  I don't think they're going to be able to  _ prove _ anything…”

 

“But what, exactly, are they trying to prove to begin with?  It is quite clear they have automatically presumed there is some wrongdoing at hand simply because of my history, which is unfounded.”

 

“You haven't actually done anything wrong in the past, have you?  Only thing I'm aware of is your thesis.”

 

Moira dropped her hand.  “And that's all there is.  I've said it before, these sentimental fools cling too tightly to their self-imposed ideals and quickly judge those who do not do the same.  They are cowards.”

 

Reyes stared at her and seemed about to speak when a knock at the door put a halt to their conversation.  Moira expected another inquiring nuisance, but when Reyes opened the door, it was Morrison who entered. 

 

“Sorry to intrude.  Just wanted to let you know that was the last of them, at least for today.”

 

“Thank you, Commander,” Reyes said without meeting his eyes, and Moira raised an eyebrow.  Since when were these two so formal?

 

Morrison made no move to leave, and the tension in the air was palpable.  Whatever was going on with them, it was doing nothing to put Moira's mind at ease.  She longed to ask them both to leave and deal with their problems privately, but knew she had no place to do so.  She supposed she owed Morrison a debt of gratitude for defending her, although she suspected that had more to do with covering his own skin than any particular loyalty to her.  Regardless of his reason, the ordeal would have been far more difficult without him on their side.

 

“I've been talking with officials regarding their investigation so far.  They've been reluctant to share anything, but so far it seems like they haven't turned anything up.  They have  _ strongly _ suggested your immediate dismissal, however,” Morrison said, turning to Moira.  “I told them I saw no reason for that, as your contributions have been beneficial and you haven't done anything illegal… well, other than your participation in Venice, but that's already been resolved.”

 

“Their suggestion was to help you  _ save face _ , no doubt,” Moira muttered with a snear.  “That's all anyone ever cares about.”

 

“That's politics for you.  Public appearances matter quite a bit.”

 

“And that is precisely why progress is so hindered.  Perhaps if those in charge spent less time discussing how things  _ look _ and more time taking action, we would not have come to such a precarious moment.”

 

Morrison rubbed the back of his head.  “You're not wrong, but… well, things are the way they are.”

 

Moira rose to her feet, savoring for a moment the way she stood over both the men in the room.  Not that it mattered much, but still, something about the fact was satisfying.

 

“It's always the same excuses,” she said, not bothering to hide her irritation.  “I have far more important matters to attend to than all of this pointless back and forth.  Now, do you know when I will be clear to return home?”

 

Something flashed in Morrison's eyes, and in that moment she knew she had made a mistake.  “More important matters, huh? And I don't suppose you'll tell me what that means?”

 

Moira resisted the urge to look at Reyes, but she could feel his glare boring into her.  Drawing from the very depths of her composure, she forced herself to step back. “I only meant my research, of course.  I have been away for far too long.”

 

Morrison held her gaze, and she wondered if he believed her story.  Finally, he nodded. “I understand,” he said, although she didn't think he was entirely convinced.  “It shouldn't be much longer.” Turning to Reyes, he added, “Let's go, Gabriel. I have a few things I want to discuss with you.”

 

Reyes scowled, but followed him out the door without protest.  Moira returned to her chair, eyes closed in the hopes of finally getting some peace, but no more than a minute had passed before there came another knock at the door.

 

Letting out a low growl, she seriously considered ignoring whoever it was before deciding to just get it over with.  “Enter.”

 

Moira barely had time to register the figure throwing open the door before arms were thrown around her neck, her vision obscured by thick blonde hair.  It took her only a moment to respond, returning Angela's embrace and breathing in her comforting scent.

 

“What are you doing here?” Moira murmured into her neck.  “You're supposed to keep your distance, remember?”

 

“There's no one here, it's fine.  I'm so damn tired of staying away,” Angela said, lowering herself into Moira's lap, straddling her.  In spite of everything, Moira felt a familiar longing stir between her legs. Running a hand through Angela's long bangs, she pulled her down into a deep kiss.  It seemed an eternity since they had last been alone together, and Moira hungered for more. She forced herself to exercise restraint, however, and eventually broke off the kiss.  Angela's pale cheeks were flushed and her breathing heavier than normal. Her hands gripped Moira's collar tightly.

 

“Come back to my place tonight,” Angela whispered.  “Stay with me.”

 

Moira groaned, wanting more than anything to say yes, to throw herself into Angela's arms and forget every stupid thing that was happening, to let her problems slip away into the shadows of the night and go back to how things had been.

 

“Soon, my love,” she said instead.  “Once this is all over, we can relax the secrecy.  But I will not risk dragging you into all this.”

 

“I know,” she sighed, tucking herself against Moira's chest.  Moira rested her cheek against Angela's head, thoughts traveling once again to the box in her drawer at home.  She couldn't imagine ever proposing now. No matter what happened, there would be no forgetting her ties to Overwatch in the public eye.  Angela was far too well known herself for a marriage between them to go unnoticed, not without living in secret for the rest of their lives, and Moira didn't want that, didn't want to ask Angela to live that kind of life.  Worst of all, she strongly suspected that if she  _ were _ to propose, Angela would accept, consequences be damned.  The promise of a life together had been so close, but now… 

 

_ She would take an even stronger stance against it than Jack. _

 

Reyes's words rang unbidden in her mind and she felt herself tense. 

 

“Something wrong?” Angela asked, clearly detecting the change.

 

Moira pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  “Nothing more than usual. My apologies, I find it difficult to keep my mind from my current predicament.”

 

Angela smiled coyly.  “I could probably help with that.”

 

Moira was let out another groan.  “With Morrison and Reyes barging in and out of here…” 

 

“They were rather busy when I passed them.  I don't think they'll be bothering us anytime soon.”

 

Rational thought said she should decline, but rational thought was rapidly losing ground, because how could she say no to those  _ eyes _ ?  And then Angela was biting her lip in a way that made the last of Moira's resolve crumble and before she knew it she had Angela bent over the desk, jeans unbuttoned, her fingers eagerly working over a slit already slick.  She circled her clit and nipped hard at her neck, relishing the moans that slipped past her lips. Angela's hips ground against Moira's hand as she upset a cup of pens, sending the contents rolling across the desk. 

 

Momentarily withdrawing her hand, Moira tugged Angela's pants down to her ankles before plunging her fingers back in hard from behind, burying their entire length inside her, pausing for a moment before pumping vigorously.  Elation filled her, every nerve electrified at the sounds of Angela's pleasure. She moved with a kind of desperation, the restraint she had been exercising for so long having fallen away. A few more crooked thrusts of her fingers sent Angela over the edge, her body trembling as the orgasm washed over her.  She collapsed against the desk, her breathing laboured, an expression of pure bliss etched on her beautiful face. Moira leaned forward and ran her tongue along her ear.

 

“I'm far from finished with you,” she whispered with a grin.  Angela had hardly formed the word “What?” before Moira was on her knees, her tongue finding its way between wet lips.  She tasted divine, her soft warmth a delicacy on Moira's tongue. Gripping her ass tightly, Moira gave herself better access, sinking herself in as deep as she could, desperate to bring her name tumbling from Angela's lips.  Sweat and lust dripped down her thighs and Moira drank it all, and soon her efforts were rewarded as Angela was once again brought to climax. She slumped to her knees, gasping, and Moira kissed her while slipping a hand under her own waistband, tending to the throbbing between her thighs, finishing herself off in a matter of minutes.  

 

They sat in each others' arms on the floor of the office long after, until the sun's rays were nothing but a faint whisper below the horizon.  They didn't talk much, but when they did they spoke of trivial things, much as they would have before the world cracked and ruptured the life they had build.  For a short while, at least, they were able to pretend those days hadn't left them. Moira ran her hands absentmindedly through Angela's hair as she listened to a story from years long gone, unable to shake the feeling that they were on borrowed time.

 

*****

 

"We're out of time."

 

"You think I don't know that?"

 

"Then what are you going to do about it?  You've had so long-"

 

"So long?   _ So long? _  It's hardly been a year, and you expect me to have recoded human genetics in that time?"

 

"Well…?  Have you?"

 

Moira's grip on her phone tightened as she let out a slow breath, once again forcing herself to reign in her frustration.  Of course Reyes couldn't truly comprehend exactly how monumental a task he had set before her, but she still would have expected him to have a bit more  _ respect _ .

 

"I'm very close.  The rabbits have been responding well, but… they're rabbits.  Not humans."

 

"So try it on me."

 

"Are you absolutely mad?  You have no idea what the repercussions could be.  You could die."

 

"And I told you long ago I was fully prepared to take that risk.  Since when do you worry about the consequences? It was my understanding that you were fully invested in the betterment of humanity at any cost.  What's changed?"

 

Moira knew very well what the answer to that was, and she suspected he did too, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of a confirmation.  

 

"My goals have not changed."

 

"Then do it.  Or did I make a mistake in hiring you?" he asked, an edge to his voice, and Moira recalled what Angela had said about desperation.  

 

"I…"  She hesitated.  A human test subject  _ was _ what she needed, truly, to know if the serum would work correctly.  Of course Reyes himself was the obvious choice, and yet somehow she had always envisioned having a perfect product when it came time to administer it to him.  But there was no one else, and no time to seek out a volunteer. Not unless… 

 

The idea flashed across her mind, and her first instinct was to dismiss it.  If she was wrong, if it failed, then that would be it. Everything would be over, lost.  Of course, she wouldn't be around to witness that, but she would know, at the end, that she had let humanity down, and that was not appealing as far as last thoughts were concerned.

 

_ You wouldn't be thinking about that, you fool.  You'd be thinking about  _ her.

 

Angela.  Angela would… She would understand, she would have to.  She was a doctor, after all, a scientist. She had taken risks, made decisions in the name of the greater good that not all would agree with.  And that was what Moira was going to do, wasn't it? Besides, it was better than putting another person in danger.

 

"I have one last experiment to run.  I'll do it tonight. If successful, I will notify you immediately and we can proceed.  Agreed?"

 

Reyes sighed.  "Fine, but you better get it over with.  Overwatch is essentially disowning you, cutting all ties.  I took the brunt for this one, and while I can't face any legal ramifications as a result, they're going to be keeping a close eye on things once again.  You can't be seen in contact with  _ any _ of us after this.  That includes me, so whatever we're going to do, we need to do it fast."

 

Moira nodded without comment, but she didn't miss the emphasis in his statement.  He was warning her to stay away from Angela. As if she needed a reminder. Well, it was no matter.  If the worst came of her experiment tonight, there would be no need for him to concern himself over possible scandals.  

 

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said, ending the call knowing it was an empty promise.  She hunched over the metal table in her lab, eyes shut. There was another call she wanted to make,  _ should _ make, yet something held her back.  What would she even say? How could she possibly explain herself, justify what she was about to do?  Then again she didn't have to. She didn't have to confess to anything. In truth she didn't want to.  She just wanted to hear Angela's voice, but the deep fear that in doing so her resolve would crumble made her hesitate.  She  _ had  _ to do this.  She couldn't afford any weakness or doubt, not now, in her final hour.  It was, quite literally, do or die. She glanced at the serum. It sat, inconspicuous in appearance, yet it seemed to her to fill the entire room, its presence looming over her, oppressive and foreboding.  The very air seemed to thicken, making it harder to breathe. The rational part of her brain knew that it was only an illusion, a result of panic starting to set in, and she forced herself to take deep, steadying breaths.  

 

Moving mechanically, she filled a syringe with a small dosage.  What Reyes wanted… the ability to break down his physical form at will, to become like smoke, a phantom… Moira had no desire for such a power.  A smaller dosage should, in theory, grant her a limited form of that ability. Enough at least to know if her serum was compatible with humans. Despite her fears, she felt a thrill of excitement run up her spine at the prospect of seeing all her efforts come to fruition.  Months of hard work had lead to this. As she swabbed the crook of her elbow with an alcohol wipe and lowered herself onto the procedure table, a wave of catharsis washed over her. This was the point of no return. Pushing back her sleeve, she placed the point of the needle against her skin, pausing for just a moment to close her eyes.  She allowed herself one last thought of Angela, happy and laughing, before plunging the needle into her skin.

 

Pain blossomed almost instantly at the injection site, white hot and ruthless.  It spread up to her shoulder and down to the very tips of her fingers. Liquid fire filled her veins and she felt for certain that they would burst.  She gritted her teeth against the pain but was unable to hold back a cry of agony, her throat quickly going raw as her entire body trembled violently.  Her vision went black and she didn't know if it was because her eyes were shut or if her functions were actually failing, so distracting was the pain. 

 

Then, suddenly, the pain vanished, along with every other sensation.  Some part of her was aware of her surroundings. She was still in the lab, she knew, but nothing felt tangible.  Surely, this was the end. She had heard, from those who had died and been revived, that all pain ceased in the moments before the body completely shut down.  So this was it… she had failed. 

 

_ I'm so sorry, Angela _ .

 

And then everything came rushing back, just as quickly as it had vanished.  She became acutely aware of her own body, every nerve ending hypersensitive.  Everything ached, but the unbearable burning had faded. Vision came into focus just in time to see the tips of her fingers reform from swirling purple whisps.  It took several seconds for her mind to process the image, but once it had a weak grin spread across her face.  _ It had worked _ .

 

Slumping in her seat, she allowed herself several minutes to regain composure before carefully testing her limbs.  Everything seemed to be in working order, but when she turned her attention to her right arm, her eyes widened in alarm.  The skin was no longer pale and smooth. Instead, it had turned a light shade of purple, with dark scars maring the flesh from fingers to just above her elbow.  She was able to flex her fingers without difficulty, but when she dug her nails into her palm, she felt nothing. Frowning, she ran her other hand along her arm, pinching her skin to no avail.  She had lost all sensation. She took note that the purple skin was several degrees cooler than the rest of her, and dryer to the touch, as if it had died.

 

_ Perhaps it has _ , she thought, and hoped that it would not enter a state of further decay.  Only time would tell, though, and if it did… well, an arm was a much smaller price to pay than her life.  She would adjust. Of course, her life could still very well be in jeopardy. She would need to run a full diagnostics, and soon.  But first… 

 

First she needed to put her newfound abilities to the test.  Could she willingly enter a state of intangibility? Disappear, literally, into a puff of smoke?  Her body was capable of it, of that she was certain, but could she control it? The human mind was not programmed to perform such an action and as such she had nothing to go on, no similar function to compare it to and execute the mental command.   _ Start small _ , she told herself.  Focusing on just the tips of her fingers, she called to mind the image from only minutes before.  In her mind, Moira pictured it in reverse, of her fingers  _ becoming _ smoke instead of forming from it.  She almost didn't expect it to work, but then an odd numbness crept through her, and she felt herself fade to nothing, only for a second, before reforming.  

 

"It seems that I can't focus it to only one area," she mused aloud.  "All or nothing."

 

The scientist in her desperately wanted to further test her abilities, but sensibilities told her that she needed to check her vitals and get some sleep.  There would be plenty of time for exploration in the days to come.

 

*****

 

Reyes arrived at her place two days later.  He had initially been furious with her for taking such a risk, but she pointedly reminded him that he had been asking to do the same and had no right to criticize her.  He had seemed about to argue further, but once she demonstrated what she could do, he quickly dropped the subject, his expression transforming to one of utter fascination, an unmistakable hungry gleam in his eye.  

 

"You've actually done it," he breathed.  

 

"You had doubts."

 

"I knew there was no guarantee.  But now… Moira, you have given me- given  _ us _ a tremendous gift.  How soon can you administer the treatment to me?"

 

"I would ideally like to wait at least another week.  While I so far appear to have suffered no serious consequences aside from, well…"  She held up her arm. "Some things can take their time to become apparent, and since I plan on giving you a higher dosage than I did myself, I would like a bit longer to observe how I respond to the treatment.  So far, though, I can say it looks promising."

 

"That's very welcome news.  I'm eager, but I've waited this long.  Another week or so shouldn't make a difference.  I'll check in with you then."

 

He had hardly been gone five minutes when a knock sounded at the door.  Thinking he had forgotten something, Moira opened the door without hesitation, but it wasn't Reyes who greeted her.

 

"Angela?  What are you doing here?"  Moira gasped, unable to stop herself from comparing the moment to their recent tryst at the office.  Then she took note of her appearance, slightly out of breath, disheveled clothes and… were those leaves in her hair?  "What happened to you?"

 

Angela laughed, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.  "As a matter of fact, I was hiding in your bushes."

 

"May I ask why?"

 

"Well, I was heading over when I saw Gabriel coming from the other direction.  I knew he wouldn't like the idea of me coming to see you, and while it's really none of his business, I didn't exactly feel like sitting through the lecture, so I hid until I saw him leave," she explained, an amusing note of pride in her voice.  "I really don't want to make things any more difficult for Overwatch right now, but I still-"

 

Angela cut herself off abruptly, her brow pinching in a familiar expression of concern.  "Moira!" she cried. "What happened?!"

 

Before Moira could respond, Angela had reached out, taking Moira's scarred, discolored hand between her own.  Moira tensed. In her confusion over Angela's arrival, she had momentarily forgotten about her rather distinguishing new appearance.  Of course Angela would notice, ask questions Moira wasn't prepared to answer. But now, thanks to her lapse in awareness, she would have no choice.

 

"It is nothing to be concerned over," she began, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalated.  "An unexpected side effect from an experiment, but so far it appears to be nothing more than cosmetic damage."

 

"Experiment?  What… Moira, what did you do?" she whispered.  "Is this… is this a result of the job Gabriel has had you on all this time?"

 

Moira saw no point in denying it.  "It is, but it was an overall success and-"

 

"Do you think I give a damn about that?!" Angela yelled.  "You promised me! You said you wouldn't put yourself at risk!"

 

"And I am fine, Angela!  I'm still here, still alive."

 

"You cannot tell me you knew with certainty that you would survive… whatever the fuck you did to yourself.  Can you?"

 

Moira winced.  "There were calculated risks, but I had no choice.  I assure you, this had not been my intended plan, but I needed a human test subject.  I would think it far better that I choose myself as opposed to putting someone else at risk."

 

Angela dropped her hand and backed away, tears forming in her eyes.  "And you didn't think to call me first?"

 

"I… did consider it, but I didn't want to worry you.  If all went well, and it did, I saw no need to give you cause for concern."

 

"And if it hadn't?" 

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"If it hadn't gone well!  Moira, what do you think I would have done then?!  How would I have known? Would Gabriel have come to me and explained that you had died as a result of the experiment  _ he _ asked you to do?  Or would I have found you myself?  Shown up today only to get no answer, come in to find you dead in your lab?  Did you even consider that? Consider how I would  _ feel _ if I had lost you?"

 

"I… had not," Moira admitted.  "But we must all make sacrifices in the name of science."

 

"Of course you didn't," Angela scoffed.  "Once again you've demonstrated that science is what matters the most to you.  Your true love."

 

"Angela, no, please don't say that," Moira pleaded, panic spiking in her chest.  She took a step forward. "You know I love you."

 

Angela put up a hand to stop her, shaking her head, refusing to meet her eyes.  "No," she said, deathly quiet. "No, don't you dare tell me that." She finally looked up, her cheeks blotchy and  streaked with tears. "You don't get to say you love me when you hurt the person I love most!" She was shouting now, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.  Moira desperately want to go to her, to offer her comfort, but it was clear Angela would not accept it. Her heart clenched as she realized her reality was rapidly falling to pieces.

 

"Angela, please, I…"  

 

"No more, Moira.  I… I can't… this whole time I thought, I believed…"  She stopped herself, choking on her words. "I have to go."

  
Moira felt paralyzed as Angela turned on her heel and walked back down the path.  As her retreating form grew smaller, Moira wanted desperately to go after her, to explain, to  _ beg _ her not to go.  The thought of life without Angela was more agonizing than the experiment that had brought them to this point and yet, much like that evening in Switzerland so long ago, she did not move, watching the open door long after the woman she loved had disappeared.


	11. Epilogue: Worth Fighting For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE GO FOLKS!! This took longer than expected, and that is 100% due to the fact that my brain hopped on the DnD character backstory train and it was rather difficult to focus on anything else ahaha. I do hope it's everything y'all were hoping for, or at least satisfactory enough.

Moira stood before the holographic display, diverting her attention between three screens of data, her face pulled downward in concentration.  Her chin rested in her hand as she stared at the information before her. What exactly was Hassoun expecting of her? More formal gatherings? She supposed she shouldn't be surprised.  In the four years since taking up the position of Minister of Genetics, she had been required to attend one event after another, a stark contrast from her shadowy tenure with Blackwatch.  It had been quite odd at first, having an employer who displayed no signs of shame or hesitancy at being openly associated with her.

 

"The past is the past," he had told her after she had expressed her doubts.  "Oasis aims for the future, and I have absolutely no doubt that your knowledge and abilities will help us do just that."

 

Nearly seven years had passed since Overwatch's official disbandment.  It had come as no surprise, really. Of course, by that point Moira had already cut all ties to the organization, save Reyes, and he had come to her not long after with yet another proposition, this one somehow even more outrageous than the last.  Not long before, she would have refused, but by then… what did she have to lose? Certainly nothing that mattered. And admittedly, there had been numerous benefits, primarily of the financial variety, to her newfound affiliation. As with Blackwatch, that position remained in the dark.  The job offer from Oasis had come later, and proved that their attempts at clandestine operations had been successful. So now, she found herself leading a double life, serving Oasis openly as the Minister of Genetics, and in the shadows…

 

Talon.  How ironic.  Of course, given the reality of the situation, somewhat less so, but still… On the surface, were it to be discovered… There were rumors, she knew, but nothing proven.  And given the appearance of the figure known only as the Reaper, with his abilities, it wouldn't be difficult for certain people to put the pieces together. In fact, she had no doubt that some had, but there had been no contact, not one word, in seven years.

 

Moira had called, just once, the day after Angela had left, in the hopes that after sleeping on it she would be willing to talk.  It had been to no avail, however. The call had gone to voicemail, and Moira had stood there, making a few pitiful attempts at forming words before giving up entirely and ending the call.  Angela must have loved listening to that, but how would she know? She had never gotten a call back and had been unable to bring herself to try again. If Angela had decided she wanted nothing more to do with her, well, there wasn't really anything Moira could do about that.  And it had hurt. It had hurt more than anything she had experienced before, and for the first time in her life, she had put everything on hold to simply sit around. That their relationship, their love, could be cast aside so easily, after everything they had been through, had been very difficult for her to process at first.  In the end, Moira had come to the conclusion that she had simply been more invested. The realization only strengthened her belief that it was foolish to pour yourself so wholly into another person, to allow one's emotions to get in the way of one's goals. She certainly wasn't going to allow herself to make the same mistake twice.  In the years since, she had dedicated herself entirely to her work for both organizations, making no room for personal relationships. It had served her well, or so she told herself. What other choice did she have?

 

So that was where she found herself, putting her talents to good use for two very different groups, both of which gave her all the support she needed provided she did as they asked.  There were certain limitations, especially with Oasis, but far less so than what Overwatch would have placed on her. They were their own entity, unhindered by the same political shackles as the former military organization.  They still had a public image to uphold, but it was very much one of their own making and as such, far more productive. This was a place that longed to better humanity as much as she did, even if the cost was at times…  _ questionable _ .  At the very least, they were more willing to look the other way so long as she produced results, and there could be no question as to her effectiveness in that regard.  No one living in Oasis had gotten anything more than a head cold in more than two years thanks to her.

 

As she stood before the display she made to run a hand through her hair, only to be obstructed by her minister's headpiece.  It was a habit she had never been able to break. The headpiece was, to say the least, ostentatious, and she loathed having to wear it.  It was tempting to remove it during the long hours she spent in solitude, but if another minister or one of the founders should stop by, especially with a guest, and find her out of uniform, the reprimand would be more tedious than it was worth.  She had learned that lesson the hard way. Just as she began scrolling through the voluminous data, she heard a familiar rustling in the corner of the room and felt a penetrating, invisible stare on the back of her neck.

 

"Must you always make such a dramatic entrance?" she drawled without turning around.

 

"Did you expect me to stroll through the front door?" a guttural voice answered.  "It's difficult enough as it is getting into this damn city."

 

"And yet you seem to manage often enough."   _ Far more than I would like, _ she added silently.  "Dropping in unannounced… some things never change, do they?" she mused, turning at last to face her visitor.

 

The dark cloak and mask like an owl's skull were intimidating to some, Moira supposed, but to her they were merely a gimmick.  She knew the man behind the mask, knew the scarred face she had helped create, and could not help but feel a twinge of pity and guilt.  She reminded herself every time she saw him that he had quite literally  _ asked _ for it, but still… Reyes's life as he knew it had been over the moment she had subjected him to her serum, and seeing as she had given him a higher dosage than what she had given herself, it had been much more than his arm that had been disfigured.  He had never complained, though. The mask hid his face and altered his voice, protecting his identity. A useful feature, considering most of the world thought him dead.

 

"I have some information you might find of interest," he said without preamble.  "Talon has been gathering intel."

 

"Can I assume that gnat Sombra is involved?"

 

"She is the best at what she does."

 

"And what kind of intelligence is she after this time?"

 

"The current whereabouts of all former Overwatch operatives."

 

Moira paused.  "Well, she knows who and where we are.  How does this concern me?"

 

"Talon is planning on making a move.  Several moves, really. We - _ they _ \- know Winston sent out a recall recently.  He didn't specify why in detail, but it stands to reason Talon is a large part of it.  Those at the top aren't exactly thrilled at the idea of Overwatch standing against them again, especially if they're unified."

 

Understanding dawned on her.  "So the plan is to take them out before they can rally."

 

"Exactly."

 

Against her will, her thoughts drifted to Angela.  Despite the years that transpired since they had parted ways, her heart contracted at the idea of any harm befalling her.  It had been so long, and yet the feelings she had for the stubborn, dedicated Swiss doctor still lingered. She knew 'Mercy' had still been active since Overwatch disbanded, traveling the world and giving aid at hospitals and battlefields alike.  She would not be difficult to track down.

 

"You want to warn her."

 

Moira sighed and was surprised to discover she was trembling.  "What else did you expect?"

 

He shrugged.  "I thought you had the right to know, but if you do this, you'll be compromising our mission."

 

"I can't just do nothing.  Don't tell me you don't care about her, too."

 

"Of course I do.  Why do you think I'm telling you this?"

 

"Why not just warn her yourself?"

 

Reyes scoffed.  "As if she would see me.  Or trust me."

 

"And you really think she'll agree to speak with me?  We didn't exactly part on the best of terms, in case you've forgotten." 

 

"You're the only option."

 

Moira drew in an unsteady breath and crossed her arms, digging her nails into the skin.  "I… I don't know how to face her," she said quietly. "How can I go to her, after all this time, and…" 

 

"Is your hesitation because of how she will feel, or because you don't want to know?"

 

She glanced at him.  "What do you mean?"

 

"If you never see her, you never know, right?  You can't confirm that she hates you. You can go on pretending she doesn't, or hoping, whatever you want to call it.  It's safer this way, isn't it? Because if that's the case, and you'd have a hard time convincing me otherwise, I suggest you cast aside your personal desires and think about what's best for her."

 

Moira stared at him in shock, lips parted.  "Since when did you become so insightful?"

 

"I've had more than enough time to consider these things," he said darkly. 

 

"Is that regret I'm detecting?"

 

The mask hid his features, but it wasn't difficult to imagine the expression on his face as he said,  "More than you know."

 

She closed her eyes, mentally steeling herself for what she was about to say.  "So where was she last seen?"

 

"Egypt, assisting with Amari's squadron."

 

"Amari?   _ Ana _ Amari?  I thought she was dead."

 

Reyes shook his head.  "Fareeha, her daughter.  She's made quite the name for herself."

 

"I don't even know how to contact her."

 

"Get a message to Helix Security.  Say whatever you think is best, but they'll be able to pass it along to her.  Whether or not she'll respond, I can't say. But at least you'll know you tried."

 

"You know, I have to say I'm surprised.  It is most unlike you, taking risks like this for personal reasons.  There was a time you would have rebuked such an idea."

 

Reyes chuckled, a sound made grotesque by his mask.  "I won't lie, I almost didn't tell you. It goes against my better judgement, but I know if something happened to her, you'd stop at nothing to get your revenge."

 

Moira stared out the window of her office, fifteen stories above ground.  The sun was getting lower, its soft light reflecting off her uniform and painting the room gold.  Reyes, of course, stayed in the shadows. There was something about the time of day Moira had always found melancholy.  It was beautiful, but held a certain kind of sorrow. She had found herself dwelling on it often during the late afternoons spent alone at the ministry.  Now, with this revelation and the decision she had to make, she allowed the feeling to wash over her like the light of the setting sun, feeling the full weight of what she was about to do.  After all, it was no decision, not really. 

 

"This is going to be a very personal question, but I have to know," Reyes began.  "Do you still love her?"

 

"It's been seven years, Gabriel," she said wearily.

 

"That's not an answer."

 

"Why do you care?"

 

"I guess I just want to know if I made the right decision."

 

Moira shifted, squaring her shoulders as she turned to look at him.  "You did."

 

"That's all the answer I'm going to get, isn't it?"

 

"Do you really need more?"

 

"I'll leave you to it, then."  And he was gone, leaving nothing more than a few wisps of black smoke to indicate that he had ever been there at all.

 

*****

  
  


The lights of the city were dim enough to allow a clear view of the stars above, but Moira hardly took notice of them as she paced restlessly along the balcony of the university.  The height and the darkness were enough to obscure her from anyone walking the streets below, but she had still cast aside her minister's robes and donned her trademark button up and slacks.  And somehow, wearing her robes just seemed too  _ showy _ .  For this meeting, she wanted to look like herself.

 

Try as she might, it was impossible to ignore the knot that had rapidly grown in the pit of her stomach, causing flared tension and a loss of appetite over the course of the day.  It still didn't seem real that Angela had agreed to meet her. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if she ended up not showing. 

 

_ Seven years _ . 

 

How had so much time passed?  How had they gone so long without even speaking to one another?  Most days, Moira didn't dwell on love lost. It did not serve her well, but now there was no avoiding it, not when she was due to meet the woman who had captured her heart any minute now.  What would she even say? No matter how many times she played out potential conversations in her head, nothing sounded quite right. But as Reyes had said, it was time to cast her own discomfort aside.  There were far more important things at stake. There was no time to-

 

"Moira?"

 

She felt her breath leave her at the sound of her name being spoken by the voice she never thought to hear again.  She froze in her pacing, steeling herself before slowly turning to face the speaker.

 

And there she was, standing several feet away at the other end of the balcony in her full Valkyrie suit.  The years had not changed her much. Blonde hair pulled up, blue eyes bright and alert, face unlined. There did seem to be an even deeper weariness to her now, something heavier about her eyes, but whether that was a result of where life had taken her or simply because of the current circumstances, Moira couldn't say.  But one thing was certain: Angela Ziegler still had the ability to send Moira's heart into overdrive. Coupled with the nerves that had been working at her all day, she was seriously doubting her ability to make it through this encounter intact. But she had to try.

 

"Angela.  Thank you for agreeing to meet me," she said, somehow keeping her voice steady.  

 

"You made it sound quite urgent," Angela said with a small tilt of her head.  Moira searched her face carefully for any signs of hostility, but found nothing more than guarded curiosity.  Then again, she hadn't always been the best at reading others' emotions. There was still a chance that Angela would start yelling.  

 

"Er, yes.  It is. I…"  How to begin?  How to explain and make her believe?  To her surprise, Angela's mouth quirked up.

 

"Don't tell me you called me all the way here without planning what to say?"

 

Moira opened her mouth to deny it, found she had nothing, and flushed.

 

"Haven't change much, have you?" Angela said with a smile.  Then her expression turned serious. "Well, if you don't quite know what to say, allow me a question.  Are the rumors true? Are you really with Talon now?"

 

Moira felt her chest tighten.  She wasn't exactly surprised that Angela had asked, and she knew she would have to be extremely careful with how she responded.  "It's… complicated."

 

"So you are," Angela said, her eyes hardening. 

 

"I am, but I'm not.  Actually, Talon is the reason I asked you here.  I need to warn you about what they're planning. There wasn't any time to waste, and it was far too risky sending it in a message.  Talon has an operative who is extremely skilled at retrieving information. Even asking you to meet was a risk."

 

"So why do it?"

 

"Because you're in danger, along with the other ex-Overwatch agents.  Talon is gathering intel on where you all are. They know about Winston's recall, and they don't like it."

 

Angela frowned.  "You're betraying your own organization for… what?  What we used to have? Quite sentimental of you."

 

"It was Gabriel's idea."

 

"Gabriel?  So he's alive?"  A pause. "The Reaper.  I suspected as much."

 

"Yes, it's him.  With his new abilities-"

 

"Abilities you gave him.  Didn't you? That's what the experiment was all about.  So does that mean you can…"

 

In answer, Moira focused inwardly and, as she had done many times before, felt herself dissipate, becoming little more than vapor.  She rematerialized a couple feet away from Angela, who gave a gasp and jumped back.

 

"You could have warned me!" she snapped, recovering.  

 

"My apologies.  I thought it easier to demonstrate." 

 

"Yes, well… no need to give me a heart attack," she grumbled.  "Anyway, you were saying about Gabe?"

 

"Right.  He knew Talon would value the abilities we both possess.  Joining their ranks proved to be fairly easy."

 

"But why?  We spent so long working against them.  Gabriel even placed his own career on the line, exposed Blackwatch, in order to take down one of their leaders.  Why would he want to become one of them?"

 

"Because he knew that joining them would be the most effective way of defeating them."

 

Moira watched as her words sank in, saw the expression on Angela's face morph from confusion to disbelief and, finally, to understanding.  "You're working from the inside? That's incredibly dangerous! You know what would happen if you were discovered!"

 

In spite of everything, Moira felt a swell in her heart at the familiar concern in Angela's voice.  It was a tone she had heard countless times in the past. "We are aware of the risks, but Gabriel was determined to continue the fight Overwatch had started, only this time, on his own terms.  Besides," she added darkly, "what do we have to lose?"

 

Angela winced, just slightly, but Moira didn't miss it.  Neither spoke for several long minutes, and Moira hardly dared to breathe.  Every so often she felt a muscle twitch from the effort of fighting against the tension coursing through her, but still she did not move.  There was still so much she longed to say, none of which had anything to do with Talon or Reyes or missions. She longed to speak of the past,  _ their _ past, to apologize for what happened, offer up a better explanation than the feeble excuses she had given on that dreadful day and, more than anything, to tell Angela that her feelings had not changed.  But it felt like too much. It wasn't why she had asked her here, and it most likely wasn't what Angela wanted to hear. To broach the subject would be selfish, and she had been  _ that _ far too many times.  No more.

 

"So you asked me here to warn me… And the others?"

 

"I trust you to get word to them.  I was never close with any of them, and would not know how to reach them."   _ And I do not concern myself with their safety as I do yours _ .

 

Angela inclined her head.  "Of course I will. But aren't you putting yourself at risk by even telling me?  And how  _ did _ you know where to reach me."

 

"Gabriel again.  You're not exactly clandestine," Moira said, raising her eyebrows at the Valkyrie suit.

 

Angela chuckled.  "I know I probably should have worn something more discreet, but what better way to get to the top of a building than with wings?  Going inside would have definitely gotten me noticed." 

 

Moira could think of nothing to say to that, and as a result another wall of silence stretched between them, pregnant with awkwardness.  Against her better judgement, Moira began, "Angela, listen, I-" but Angela cut her off.

 

"Wait.  I have a feeling I know what you're going to say, and I just… I want to say something first.  I  _ need _ to."  She took a deep, unsteady breath, and Moira noted that her hands were trembling slightly.  "I know that things did not end well between us, and while I still believe my feelings were justified, I also know that… that I could have handled it better.  I should have called you back, talked it out with you, but… I couldn't bring myself to. I was too afraid that, even if I forgave you, something else would happen eventually and we'd just be right back to where we started.  I saw in my mind an endless loop, years and years into the future, one that we never escaped. You're a woman of action, Moira, and so am I. When you make up your mind, when you see an answer before you, you act. But you're not very good at seeing past yourself.  I didn't know what I'd do if one day I woke up and something you did ended up getting you killed. It was always a fear, of course, being with Overwatch. It was a risk of the job. But when I saw what you'd done to  _ yourself, willingly _ … I just couldn't keep doing it."

 

Moira felt her throat tighten as Angela spoke, feeling the truth in her words like daggers of ice, but she didn't dare interrupt.  

 

"As time went on, though… I started to wonder if I hadn't maybe reacted too harshly.  I still don't think what you did was right, and yet…" She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and stepped closer.  "I loved you so much," she said, barely more than a whisper.

 

"Angela… I am truly sorry.  I cannot express enough how foolish I was.  I will never regret the actions I have taken for the advancement of science, but I know I should have been honest with you, told you what I was doing from the start.  My oversight cost me that which was most important, and for that I will always have regrets."

 

"I don't know how I'm supposed to feel right now," Angela murmured.  "It's so… muddled. Confusing. I almost didn't come, but I… I wanted to see you again.  And I hated myself for feeling that way. I've tried so hard all these years to move on, to leave the past where it belongs, but a part of me could never quite let go."

 

Moira dared to step closer, to close the gap between them to nothing more than a few short inches.  She could feel the warmth emanating from Angela's body and had to fight the urge to wrap her in her arms.  "Most days I get on with my life, do my job, continue my work. And most days it's enough. But I never wish to lie to you again, Angela.  No matter how much I lose myself in what I do, my feelings for you have not changed. I had long since given up hope of ever even seeing you again, let alone… But you're here now, and it could very well be for the last time.  I am allowing myself this one final selfish act. You have to know I will always love you."

 

Angela stared hard at her own hands clasped tightly in front of her, an indiscernible look on her face, before slowly reaching out and taking Moira's hand in her own.  The gloves of her suit prevented Moira from feeling the warm, callused skin of her palm, but the familiar electric thrum of energy still pulsed between them, sending a thrill through Moira's heart. 

 

"We can't be together," Angela said, and Moira closed her eyes, preparing to draw away.  "At least not right now. The position you're in… the risk of exposure… You would be killed.  I won't do that. Something is brewing, I can feel it. We're on the brink of something, something that is going to bring together Overwatch and omnics and Talon, and I don't know how it will end.  If you believe that working from within Talon is the best way to stop them, then that's where you need to be. And I'm needed out there, doing what I've always done. But Moira," (now the gap between them was practically nonexistent) "I'm not giving up this time."  And then she was reaching up on her toes and pressing her lips to Moira's, and the balcony and the university and the very sky overhead disappeared, leaving only the two of them.

 

Moira reacted instantly, instinctively, wrapping her arms tight around her, holding her close.  It was as if the years were washing away, taking them back to before everything had come undone.  Time had not passed, a rift had not opened between them. They fit together now as they always had, their lips moving together, softly at first before gaining urgency.  Fingers tangled in hair and breathing became harsh, and when they finally parted, foreheads touching, Moira's heart was racing.

 

"I've missed you,  _ a rúnsearc," _ she murmured. 

 

"I don't know how I've gone all these years without you," Angela breathed.  "When I leave tonight, it will  _ not _ be the last time we see each other."

 

As they stood looking out over the city Moira now called home, hand in hand, a calming certainty took root in her.  They were facing a dangerous, unknown future. Foes old and new were emerging from the shadows, and heroes long since cast aside would have to rise up once again.  It would be war, a war Moira never would have imagined herself taking part in, but as she glanced at Angela, their hands still entwined, she knew she would never stop as long as she had something to fight for.

  
  


END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with me!! A couple of notes here, primarily on the Talon twist: The idea came to me as I was thinking of a reason to get Angela to come to Oasis, and I always saw in my mind the two of them on a balcony at night, meeting again for the first time in years. Why are they there? I asked myself. And I eventually thought, wouldn't it be interesting if Moira and Gabriel were actually still against Talon? I know in canon, that isn't likely, esp for Moira, but for the sake of the fic... I felt it worked nicely for bringing it all together.   
> Second note: I may or may not do another Moicy fic. I'd like to. I've certainly had plenty of ideas, but for now, I have some other things I want to explore, and I really hope you guys will check out what I put forward in the future. And, as always, follow my Twitter @SpicyMoicy for updates, art, and general nonsense. You are all fantastic!


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